


Wings to Bring You Home

by agentofvalue



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Cartinelli - Freeform, F/F, Fluff, Modern AU, and everything in between
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-05-13 13:11:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 38,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5709436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentofvalue/pseuds/agentofvalue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy Carter has a daughter. Her name is Grace, she is nine years old, and her father is Captain America. Peggy also has a wife named Angie. Peggy has made a life for herself in the ten years since Steve Rogers disappeared—since he died. Until she gets a call and everything she loves is thrown into a tailspin. Modern AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Present Day

Peggy sat at a small table in the bright, cheerful sunroom just inside the hospital’s garden. There was a photograph in front of her and she compulsively spun in. Round and round, running her thumb along the edge of the paper. She felt in no way bright or cheerful. She was nervous and regretting that she had nothing else to wear. 

She’d worn this outfit at least twice. Her go-bag only held so much and she hadn’t been home in weeks. She was doing laundry at the hospital. Bloody hell, why was she worrying about that of all things? There was a long list of things to think about and her clothing shouldn’t be on it. 

She crossed and uncrossed her leg, shifted in her chair. She put the picture back in the breast pocket of her blazer and took out her phone from the pocket of her jeans. She’d done the same thing in reverse only two minutes ago. Quickly, she scrolled passed the smiling faces on the phone screen before they made her feel worse. Her family shouldn’t make feel worse. Nothing about this should be making her feel badly. 

Steve Rogers was back from the dead. She was sitting the sunshine waiting for Captain America. It was impossible, unbelievable, unfeasible, unimaginable, outrageous, far-fetched. She was running out of adjectives to describe it. 

He had given her hope in the darkest of places in the darkest of times. He had been the love of her life; she had seen a future with him once. But he had sacrificed everything and she had had to go on without him. Broken-hearted, but determined to soldier on. She was English after all. She had had no other choice. 

Now, the world had turned upside down again. She’d lost everything, rebuilt a life, and it all felt unstable again. She felt like two different people. A Peggy who had a life with Steve and a Peggy who had the life she actually had. If she moved too quickly, both would collapse. 

She was nervous and waiting for him to walk through the door. 

It wasn’t the first time she had seen him. She had been by his side for the weeks of recovery as they thawed his body and brought him essentially back to life. He hadn’t been conscious. Two days ago, he had finally opened his eyes and asked her if he had missed their date. She had been the one who told him he had missed the date and about ten years in between. She had barely faced him since then. She wanted to go home and find her stable footing again. To get out of the snow and back to New York. To leave this place with Steve this time and find a place in her life the way he had always been in her heart. 

There was one very important conversation they had to have before anything else could happen. 

She put her phone away again. The wifi was spotty, and she was out of range of her American carrier. When she looked up again, Steve coming towards her. Despite her nerves, she smiled broadly as he approached. 

He looked exactly as he had the last time she’d seen him. Not just two days ago, but ten years ago. Tall, blond, blue-eyed, strong, capable, unhurt, a little silly in a hospital gown that was only just big enough and dressing gown. It was so hard to believe. It was like a dream, in fact, she had had this very dream many times. 

“Hi, Peggy,” he said with a matching smile. 

“Hello,” she said and stood up to leaned over. She kissed him on the cheek. He looked a little startled by the interaction. Was he hoping for more of a kiss or was he just always a little awkward? “It’s so good to see you up and about.” 

He waved a hand. “I’m fine. They won’t release me and all I want is to go home.” He paused. “I guess my apartment is gone, though.” 

“You’re a little late on the rent.”

“Still want to get outta here.” 

“Trust me, I know the feeling. They have to be cautious.” 

He sat down heavily. “They don’t know what to do with me and they’re keeping me in the dark. That’s what they’re doing. It’s been ten years—I know things have changed. I’m not an idiot.” 

She returned to her seat too. “No one is saying that,” she said. 

“I can see it. I see the new technology. All the nurses walk around with—what do they call them?—tablets. Everyone I know looks different. But Stark has them feeding me a bit of information every day.” 

“Do I look different?” she asked. 

He blushed a little. “‘Course. You’re still gorgeous.” 

Peggy looked away for a moment. Her cheeks were hot, and she felt a few rogue tears. She told herself she wouldn’t cry, but, for a moment, it was hard not to mourn the life they might have had. She was happy. She had made a beautiful, rich life for herself and she wouldn’t change it for anything. But, it was impossible not to ask ‘what if?’ 

“You okay?” he asked. 

She sighed and turned back to him. “Yes, but I’m feeling a little guilty. Howard is being careful, in part, because I asked him to. There are things I haven’t told you. Things that need to come from me first and I’ve been very selfish in keeping them from you.” 

He sat up a little in his chair, bracing for the worst. Part of it would break his heart, part of it would make him happy. Or so she hoped. 

She pulled out the photo again and slide it across the table. He picked it up and frowned as he studied it. 

“The girl is Grace Rogers. She usually goes by Gracie or Peanut. She’s my daughter—our daughter.” 

The frown disappeared to be replaced by shock. His gazed flicked to Peggy’s face and then back to the photo. “I have—what? How?” he breathed. 

“I was pregnant when you…disappeared.” She had been on the verge of saying died instead of disappeared; it was what she was used to. “I didn’t know it and I was almost four months along when I found out. I had moved to New York where I knew no one. I was barely beginning to accept that you were gone and suddenly I was bringing our child into the world. It wasn’t easy, but she’s perfect. She’s so smart and sweet and so much like you, Steve. I see it every day.” 

“I’m a father? I have a kid?” 

“Yes, darling. I’m so sorry I kept it from you even these extra days. She asks about you all the time, but she knows that her father died before he even knew about her. You’re a legend to her.” 

He didn’t answer but looked back at the picture. 

“There’s something else,” Peggy continued. “The other woman is Angie. She’s my wife.”


	2. Ten Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm beginning to layer in the Cartinelli now. Really excited! Let me know what you think.

**TEN YEARS**

“You apartment hunting?” 

Peggy started and tried cover up the very large real estate section of her newspaper spread out over an entire table at the L&L Automat. Angie stood above her with her hip cocked and a coffee pot in her hand. 

Peggy hadn’t figured out how to tell her one and only friend in the city she was moving out. She had taken over the lease of the tiny studio next door to Angie’s.

The day she moved in, Peggy had somehow blocked the stairwell with her few belongings. Peggy had to clear a path for a disgruntled Angie. A lecture about shared spaces that had begun at the bottom of the stairs had turned into a pleasant reminder by the time Angie had reached the top. Peggy must have looked that pathetic, moving in all alone or maybe it was her accent. She found that helped win people over here. 

It didn’t take long for them to figure out Peggy’s office was close enough to the diner where Angie worked to go during her lunch hour. Peggy had pretty quickly become a regular. One night of drinking schnapps leftover from some party Angie had, and they had pretty quickly become friends. 

Peggy regretted that night now, but she had a lot of regrets and none of them had to do with Angie. 

“Well, yes,” said Peggy, folding the newspaper. “I’m only subletting from Colleen. And…” She wasn’t really sure how to finish her sentence. “…things have changed.” 

“I hope it wasn’t my bad booze,” Angie said and breezed passed to help another customer. 

She had only moved to New York a month earlier and Peggy had met no one outside of work. No one but Angie and she didn’t want to lose her. What she might lose was hard to say. 

Peggy had wanted to start over. Maybe coming to his city wasn’t the greatest idea, but maybe she had been trying to prove something. She had lost everything in the fighting, everything when that plane had gone down. They could find the Titanic, but they couldn’t find Steve. She had lost the love of her life. 

She had been broken, shattered into pieces, and she had been trying to put herself back together. A single piece at a time. She had escaped every part of her old life that had made her feel like herself. She was out of the military and she had left her country behind. New job. New city. New habits. New Peggy. A new friend. She had been able to find a few pieces and hold them together. She thought. 

She had lost her footing again. Almost four months of hard work undone with one test result. 

Angie swept back to Peggy’s table. “That’s not really how you go about finding a new place,” she said. “Things move too fast in the city. You have to get a broker or if you’re feeling lucky Craigslist.” 

“I didn’t know. I’ve never looked before.” She had been in the military her entire adult life. “I’ve never really lived alone before.” 

“Never even lived alone?” 

She was only just beginning to take care of herself. On the surface, she was more than capable. She was at home in any big city; she could always find her way. She cooked, paid her bills, was never late unless she meant to be, good at her job. That wasn’t the kind of caring for she was thinking about. 

She still didn’t know how to make herself fall asleep when the room was quiet. She could take and complete a mission on her own, but she didn’t know what to do with herself on a day off. She had started dreading weekends. Too much free time to get lost in her own head. She didn’t know how to calm herself after a nightmare or when the waves of sadness rocked the boat. She was so task oriented, obsessive. Without the Mission—capital M—of the fight, she was lost. 

Peggy shook her head. Her footing slipped a little far. 

Angie glanced around, looking for her manager, and then dropped into the seat across from Peggy. “How have you made it this far?” she asked with a smile. 

It was a joke; she was teasing, but it cut to the quick. She genuinely couldn’t answer Angie’s question and the tears built though she tried to fight it. 

“Oh God, I was kidding. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it,” said Angie. 

Peggy looked away, uselessly trying to hide her emotions. Angie covered Peggy’s hand with her own. 

“Listen,” Angie said. “I’m off in a few. Let me clock out and we can go get a drink. My treat.” 

“I can’t,” said Peggy loudly. 

Angie jerked her hand away and Peggy looked at her again. Angie was blushing scarlet and Peggy—for one of the few times in her life—panicked. 

“I’m sorry. I—I—” She didn’t know what. 

She threw some cash onto the table without knowing how much the dinner she hadn’t touched cost. She didn’t take the time study the ridiculous American money that was the same size and color. This whole country was ridiculous. Why ever did she come here? Why had she ever fallen in love with Captain America? 

She rushed out the revolving door and burst out onto the busy city sidewalk. 

“ _Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry_ ,” she thought.

She repeated it as she hailed a cab, too desperate to wait for the subway. She thought it again as she fumbled with her keys in the front door. And then again was she stood in the middle of the apartment. 

Tears had fallen. If she thought about the last conversation over the radio, the world invariably sparkled as tears fractured the light. The memorial service had been tough. She woke in the middle of the night with wet cheeks. She hadn’t cried yet. Not really. 

Steve was gone. Dead. They’d called off the search. She had sat at his service and listened to eulogy after eulogy in the past tense. She had to remind herself. Dead. Gone. Never coming back. She couldn’t hope for that anymore. 

She had wanted to package it up in a nice box with a neat bow and store it in her heart. It had happened; she had loved and lost. If she could package it up, maybe she could get over him. Maybe she wouldn’t feel so sad anymore. How was she supposed to do that now? How much more was the universe going to ask of her? How much stronger did she have to be? 

She didn’t want to be strong. She wanted someone to pick her up and hold her close and tell her it would be okay. There was no one there. She was alone. 

But she wasn’t alone even now. 

The tears came. For the first time, she allowed herself sob and wail and crash against the unfairness of it all. It left her body like an exorcism. The box with its neat bow was blown to bits. Her body ached when it finally began to abate. She laid on the bed where she had collapsed and listened to her ragged breathing. She didn’t know how long she stayed like that. 

Her mobile buzzed a few times but it wasn't until there was a gentle knocking on the door did Peggy opened her eyes. 

“English? It’s me,” Angie said from the other side. “Are you here?” Long pause. “I think you are, but I get it if you don’t want to talk.” Another pause. “Can you, like, throw something at the door? I’m really worried about you.” 

Peggy considered for a while whether she wanted to talk to anyone. At last, she decided on yes. She dragged herself off the mattress. There was no point in pretending she hadn’t been crying her eyes out. 

She opened the door and looked into Angie’s anxious face. She said nothing. Angie looked her up and down, taking in what must be a sight. But, somehow, it was relief that showed on Angie’s face. 

“You forgot your dinner,” Angie said and held up bag with to go containers inside. “And your change minus my tip.” 

Peggy felt the corners of her mouth twitch in the shadow of a smile. She put out a hand and Angie passed over the bag and a few crinkled bills. 

“Thanks,” Peggy said as moved back into the apartment, leaving the door open. She dropped the change onto the tiny table and stuffed the food in the refrigerator. She wasn’t hungry. 

Angie followed, closing the door behind her. “I hope that was an invitation to come in,” she said. 

Peggy nodded as she sat down on the small love seat and tucked her feet beneath her. “It was. I owe you an apology,” Peggy said. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve had much ruder customers,” Angie said. “Besides, I know I overstepped. I should’ve warned you to never take anything I say seriously. In fact, ignore all of it.” 

“You’ve given some good advice.” 

“Yeah? Name one thing.” 

Peggy shrugged, too tired to keep up the banter. Angie slowly came and joined Peggy on the couch. 

“I thought we were friends,” said Angie.

“I thought so too,” Peggy said. 

“Then you can talk to me. If you want to, I mean. I know you don’t know a lot of people in the city yet, but you're not alone.” 

Peggy let out a shaky gasp and covered her mouth as if trying to keep the sound in. It was too late. She tried to steady herself, but it was a lost cause. 

She cried again, not quite so loudly or as hard. 

“Let it out, English,” Angie said in a small voice.

She didn’t shy away or run but guided Peggy so she was leaning against Angie’s shoulder and just held on with an arm around Peggy’s shoulders. She didn’t shh or sooth; she was just a support and Lord, Peggy needed it. 

Angie didn’t let go until Peggy had cried herself out again. 

“I feel so foolish,” Peggy admitted as she wiped her eyes, her cheeks. 

“Why?” Angie asked. “Everyone needs a good cry now and then. Mine is scheduled for later this week, but it’s provisional on whether I get that part or not.” 

Peggy snorted and actually smiled. 

“There we go,” Angie said. “That’s a smile.” 

“Thank you. I got some news today, and I thought I was handling it better than I am.” 

“I thought it was because I was taking advantage of your vulnerable state by asking you out at the diner.” 

Peggy puffed out her cheeks and let out the air. She didn’t know what to do with that information. In other circumstance, in another life, yes Angie Martinelli was someone she would be interested in. 

“Good news or bad news?” Angie said, letting the moment pass without needing a response. “Though, I can guess.” 

“I honestly don’t know.” Peggy sighed. It was time to say it out loud. “I’m pregnant.” 

Angie kept her face terribly neutral though in all likelihood it was not what she was expecting. 

“That’s why I said no to the drink,” continued Peggy. “I’ve already broken all the rules. I didn’t know—I had no idea. I’m four months pregnant. I guess I haven’t been feeling myself, but I blamed it on other things. I’ve been tired and a little sick to my stomach, but I can’t remember when it started. It was a routine doctor’s appointment as part of the screening for my new job. I’m a federal agent—I don’t know if I’ve even told you—so we have to get check out. They run blood tests and I guess a pregnancy test is standard. I hadn’t a clue what she was talking about when she told me. I made them do it again. I had to go back to work after the appointment. And the thing is I don’t know what to do.” 

“It’s a big question, but also a simple one,” Angie said. “Do you want to be a mom or not?” 

Peggy shook her head. “It’s complicated.” 

“Will the dad not help? Is he back in England?” 

“The father is dead.” 

“Oh Jesus, Peggy. I’m so sorry. I thought there was some backstory, but I never imagined. I’m so, so sorry.” 

Her hand was resting on her knee and Angie reached out to take it. Peggy didn’t pull away. In fact, it was actually a comfort, something to hold onto. 

“I left everything behind to start over,” Peggy said. She was on the verge of tears again. “I came here to get away, to start over. But now. How am I supposed to? I’m scared I can’t do this. I’m scared she will look just like him and I won’t be able to see her without being sad. Missing him hurts so much. But I’m also scared I can do this and it would never matter he is gone. I think I wanted to spend my life with him. He was special, Angie. Like no one else and the world is less because he’s not in it. This child is a part of him.” 

“It sounds like you want this baby.” 

“I do, which is crazy. I’m all alone and I never decided if I wanted kids. In a horrible way, this feels right. I just don’t want to do it without him.” 

“I can help out,” Angie said brightly. “I’ll help you find an apartment at least.” 

“You would?” 

“You can’t raise a kid here.” She gestured around the little studio. Kitchen, living room, bedroom, all in one box. “You need someone and I don’t have much else going on as actress _slash_ waitress.” 

“You will be a star someday. Don’t give up.” 

“You sound like a mom already.” 

Peggy let out a laugh to keep from crying again. Angie put an arm around Peggy’s shoulders and Peggy leaned on her again. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Angie said. 

Peggy closed her eyes. It wasn’t who she had wanted to hear say those words, but it would do. Angie kissed her forehead. 

“You said her before,” Angie said after a long moment. 

Peggy sat up again and missed Angie’s protective touch at once. 

“The doctor said it was a girl,” Peggy asked. “Do you want to see her?”

“Yeah, of course.” Wonder edged her voice. 

Peggy got up and took the sonogram picture out of the pocket of the jacket she had been wearing. She went back to the couch and passed it to Angie. It was just a little black and white outline of a baby. It looked like every other sonogram she had ever seen. Hardly anything unique except she was Peggy’s. 

“Wow. You’ve really got a kid in there, huh?” 

Peggy nodded and wrapped an arm over her stomach. Wow was a good way to describe it. 

“ _Our baby, Steve_ ,” she thought. “ _She’s ours_.”


	3. Nine Years and Eight Months

**NINE YEARS AND EIGHT MONTHS**

“My, my, you are about to pop,” said the toothy man sweeping the stoop of a handsome brownstone as Peggy and Angie approached. 

Peggy felt about as big as a house and wished people who stop pointing it out. She was well aware, and she still had weeks until her due date. She sighed and plastered a smile on her face. She was struggling with the very private thing being on display. She didn’t want to share with experience with anyone. 

“She’s eight months. It’s a girl. She doesn’t have a name picked out,” Angie said, her hackles up. 

She didn’t want to share it with anyone but Angie. 

The man’s smile faltered a little. “I’m sorry?” he said. 

“Angie, be nice,” said Peggy. “I get asked the same questions quite a lot. She was trying to speed up the process. Are you Mr. Bishop?” 

He glanced at Angie again and then answered Peggy. “Yes, that’s me. I have an apartment to show you.” 

“Lead the way, sir.” 

He carefully leaned his broom against the wrought-iron railing and headed for the front door. 

Peggy grabbed Angie’s elbow before she could follow. “What are we doing here?” she said in a low voice. “I can’t afford this.” 

Angie smiled. “Just have a look. C’mon, I said I’d help you find the perfect place. Have I let you down so far?” 

Because of work, which hadn’t slowed down for her condition, Peggy had hardly had any time to look for a new apartment. Even with Angie leading the charge and vetting places before Peggy even got involved, she had only seen about five. None of which were close to being right. 

“Actually,” said Peggy. “You haven’t been a great broker so far.” 

Peggy expected some banter, some playful response to her teasing from Angie. Instead, Angie gave Peggy a quick kiss. Peggy’s cheeks got warm. Her relationship with Angie was so new and delicate, these little gestures of affection were such a surprise. A touch here, a steadying hand there, sitting so close it was a tease, answering questions for Peggy before they were even asked. She found herself hoping she would never find a new place even with the birth so imminent. She didn’t want to move away from Angie, whose apartment was next door to her sublet. She had become accustomed to having Angie only a few steps away.

“You haven’t seen this place yet,” Angie said and ushered Peggy up the steps. 

Peggy climbed laboriously with her expectations low. The place would be gorgeous, but it couldn't be her home. Of course, everything about the building exceeded her exception the moment she walked in the door. 

After a wide vestibule, the apartment opened into a living room with vaulted ceiling. It was fully furnished with a plush sectional and a leather chair that looked like the absolute perfect place to read a book. Towards the back, under a lofted second floor, was a large kitchen area separated from the living room by a huge island made of a complicated marble. The space was open, bright, airy with a few industrial touch like exposed brick and ducts. It was perfect and there was no way she could ever live here. 

“It’s incredible,” said Peggy from a perch on the edge of the sofa where she had plotted herself just to get off her swollen feet.

Mr. Bishop chuckled a little. “And you haven’t even seen the rest of it. There are three bedrooms upstairs and bonus room on the third floor. The backyard is accessible through the basement, which also has washer and dryer and a rack for bikes. The last guy was passionate about his bikes.” 

“I’m not doing a lot of cycling at the moment,” said Peggy. 

“I supposed not. So, I come on Tuesdays and Fridays to keep things in order. I handle the backyard, the trash, anything else that crops up.” 

“You’re not the landlord?” Peggy asked. It would be odd for a landlord to be doing maintenance. 

“No, ma’am, I’m the super. I manage quite a few properties for—”

“Can we see the rest?” Angie interrupted. 

“Of course, follow me,” Mr. Bishop said and lead the way upstairs. 

Angie let Peggy go first, making sure she was steady on the staircase. Peggy was suspicious, but one look at Angie told her Angie was not about to explain anything. 

They saw a furnished master suite with a huge bed that looked like heaven and a bathroom that would be paradise. Peggy fantasized about floating in the pool-sized tub. She didn’t really fit into the tiny bathroom at the studio apartment anymore. 

“The other bedrooms are at the end of the hall,” he said. 

“I’d like to show her,” said Angie. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Peggy was frowning, totally confused. “Ang, what in the world is going on?” 

Angie didn’t answer but motioned for Peggy to follow and pushed open the door to the next bedroom. 

Peggy gasped and reached for Angie. Angie caught Peggy’s hand to keep her upright. The room was a beautifully decorated nursery. It was simple white and grey with pops of color from maps and photos from around the world. Above the crib were large letters that spelled out EXPLORE. 

Angie was grinning proudly. “I mean it was all the professional decorator, but the travel theme was my idea.” 

“I—I don’t understand,” said Peggy. 

She turned slowly, taking in every corner of the room. She had done little in the way of preparing for her baby's arrival. She had been waiting to find the new apartment before bothering with furniture. It was all here. Her eyes landed on a long dresser and changing table that had been behind her when she first entered. On the end was a photo in a silver frame. She let out a little gasp and wrapped her arms around her belly. It was Steve in his service uniform smiling back at her. 

“You’re looking a little pale, English.” Angie led her to a rocking chair and Peggy gratefully collapsed into it. “You gonna pass out? Don’t be that cliche.” 

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. 

“Good,” said Angie. 

“I don’t understand,” Peggy said again. 

Angie dropped to her knees next to Peggy. “It’s already yours.”

“This is madness. This place must be worth millions. I can’t afford this.” 

“Howard Stark can,” said Angie. “It’s a thanks for helping him find his bad babies—whatever that means—and because you deserve it. His words, not mine. Though, I agree with him. He also says that it was Jarvis’ idea so get angry with him.” 

“He can’t just give me a house. I can’t accept this.” 

“He said you’d say that. So he said to tell you it's not a gift. The rent is one thousand a month including utilities.” 

Angie was looking so expectantly at her. If she had been in on this secret, she had worked hard to pull it off. She wanted to see Peggy excited and Peggy wasn’t ready to feel that yet. 

“Can I have a minute?” she asked. 

Angie kissed Peggy’s cheek again before standing up straight again. “‘Course. I’ll go get the keys.” 

Peggy nodded though she was unsure if she wanted the keys. 

“Take your time,” Angie said in a singsong voice as she left and tactfully closed the door behind her. 

Peggy sighed and rubbed her belly. Probably because of how fast her heart was racing, the baby was moving. 

“What do you think, Peanut?” she asked aloud. “One kick for no and two kicks for yes.” 

She counted one, two, three and something that might have been a somersault. She pressed her hand to the spot and smiled to herself. That wasn’t an answer. She needed to decide on her own. 

Steve’s photo was looking at her. It was Captain Rogers, not Captain America. Post-serum, but not the flashy public face. The man she had known and loved and lost. It was the good man, not the superhero, not the legend he was to the rest of the world and who he would be to their child. 

What would he have done? Would he have accepted such an extravagant gift? She was usually so decisive. She made her choices swiftly and saw them through. She had been nearly paralyzed since finding out about the baby. Everything seemed wrong. She had let Stark lead her on a wild goose chase to clear his name because work was the only thing that calmed her. She wasn't ready and using the lack of a permanent place to live as an excuse. She was trying her best, but there didn’t seem to be a correct course. She didn’t know who to ask or even what to ask. 

She had always been taught to do things on her own. Accepting help was getting propped up. Making it on your own was the only way to do it. Steve would have done it on his own. 

“Just us,” he would’ve said. “We can do anything.” 

But guess what? Steve was bloody here anymore. Maybe they would have been able to do it with just the two of them and their daughter against the world. But Peggy was alone. She had to be everything for the little girl growing in her belly. The thought was painful, but it was the reality. 

Everything was so heavy. From Peggy’s own body to the choices she was making. 

“Damn you, Steve Rogers,” she said to the photograph. “How could you leave me? How could you leave her?” 

She hung her head, squeezing shut her eyes against Steve’s gaze and against the tears. She could answer the second question. He hadn’t known about their child; Peggy hadn’t even known. There was an answer to the first question too. He hadn’t been thinking about Peggy. He hadn’t been thinking about anything but stopping that plane from reaching America. 

He hadn't even been thinking of himself. He had just jumped, and she had let him do it. It wasn't like she could've stopped him. In fact, she would have gone with him. She would've jumped too if she could. Maybe he would have survived then; maybe they both would have died and their baby along with them. Who could say? But even her daughter wasn't worth the lives of everyone he had saved. She wasn't angry at him despite her words. She missed him and the rest was rather an empty, hollow feeling. He had left behind a very large hole in her life, in the world. 

He was already missed so much in only these few months. Doctor’s appointments, sounds of heartbeats, first kicks, her stomach swelling and swelling. He was frozen in time. She had only memories and fantasies. Would he have wanted her after the fighting was over? When it would have been a relationship, a shared life, rather than stolen moments. Would he have wanted to be a father? She could guess and that was all. 

The house was amazing and the low rent would be an incredible help. Federal agents didn't exactly do what they did for the money and she was a single mother so she would need childcare. The baby would be expected to go to college, something she needed to plan for now. In the grand scheme, who cared if she accepted help? She hadn’t asked. She wasn’t begging. And Stark certainly owed her a lot after she had got caught up in his mess. Seven months pregnant and arrested for treason. She bloody well deserved this. 

She looked up again and Steve was still smiling at her. He would only ever be smiling at her in exactly the same way, in exactly the same pose. Blue eyes sparkling, but unseeing. 

She thought of the woman downstairs and Peggy remembered she wasn’t entirely on her own. She was shocked there was room in her broken heart for someone new and even more shocked at how Angie seemed to feel about her. The kilos of baggage didn't seem to matter to her. Peggy felt guilty for wanting Angie or even considering it. It was too soon; Peggy was too pregnant with someone else’s child; there were too many reasons to say no. Except for one small fact: she wanted to say yes. She didn’t know what Angie was offering, she didn’t know if it would last, but she wanted to try. If could accept this house, she could accept another step forward. 

She had taken a job, moved to a new country to keep herself out of bed. If she had stopped for one second, she never would have got up again and now, especially, she could not let that happen. Her future was growing inside her and she had to keep paddling for her daughter. 

“I’m sorry, my darling,” she said, still staring at the photo. She rubbed her belly. “I can’t keep asking for your help. I have to look forward—I have to for her.” 

She smiled through her tears for a moment and then wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands. She pulled herself out of the chair and Peggy left the room. 

Carefully, she made her way downstairs. Steps were tricky when she couldn’t see her feet anymore. Angie was leaning over the island reading something on her phone, which sat on the counter. Two sets of keys were in front of her. She was only pretending not to be protectively monitoring Peggy’s every move. 

"You okay?" she asked too casually when Peggy finally reached the ground floor.

Peggy nodded as she moved to where Angie was standing. She slipped her arms around Angie’s waist, angling her large belly sideways to get close enough to bury her nose in the crook of Angie’s neck. Angie reached behind her and tangled her fingers in Peggy’s hair. 

“Thank you,” said Peggy. 

“For what? This is Stark’s gift. I only helped organize the surprise.” 

“Well, thank you for organizing the surprise and for just being here. None of this is your problem and you haven’t left for a second.” 

“Here’s the thing. You’re always talking about how special Steve was, but you’re pretty special too.” 

Peggy felt her cheeks get hot again. They grew even warmer as Angie circled in Peggy's arms so they were facing each other. 

“Welcome home,” Angie said, and they kissed.


	4. Nine Years and Six Months

**NINE YEARS AND SIX MONTHS**

“Peggy?” said the midwife. 

Peggy looked away; she couldn’t face it. She heard the tiny cries, knew they were calling out for her. But she couldn’t do it. She knew what she was supposed to do. She knew she was supposed to reach out and never let go. Bonding started in the first few minutes. Her child—their child—had entered the world and Peggy wasn’t ready to face her. Not without him. She didn't want to know if the baby had his eyes or his nose. She didn't want to see the shadow of Steve on the new face.

Peggy's face was wet with more than the sweat of hours of hard labor. She was too tired to even properly cry. Maybe if she didn’t look, maybe then it would all go away. All the pain both physical and in her heart that continued to beat despite everything. 

“Peggy?” Concern edged in. 

Peggy shook her head. She stared anywhere but at the woman beside the bed holding her brand new baby. Peggy had thought she had come to terms with what she had to do. She had found a way to smile when she thought of her child, when she felt the kicks and knew Steve’s daughter was growing. She had thought she was ready to face it. But she’d had no idea. 

“Are you alright? Can you answer me?” 

Someone grabbed her hand and Peggy looked at that. It was Angie of course. She had been there when Peggy’s waters had broke and she hadn’t left for a moment. She was the doula, so it was her role in Peggy’s birth plan, but Peggy hadn’t counted on how important that would be. Every breath, every heartbeat had needed reassurance. She had given birth, but it was her heart that hurt the most. 

Angie tucked in close, pressing her face against Peggy’s. “You have a daughter,” she said firmly. She would not let Peggy hide. “You and Steve have a daughter.”

“He’s gone.” 

“There’s a little part of him right here.”

A sob escaped Peggy. It seemed to match the baby’s cries. “I’m scared. I don’t know if I can do this. It hurts too much.” 

“I’m sure everything hurts right now. But, babe, you’ve already done the hard part. You’ve done the hardest thing in the world. You have to see her. She’s beautiful.” 

Peggy breathed out slowly and looked up. 

The midwife was holding a little bundle and Peggy reached out. The darling girl was pink and squirming and crying out with healthy lungs. Mother and baby clung to each other. The last of Peggy’s defenses collapsed and she did cry. Fat tears that raced down her cheeks are she held the new life to her bare chest. There wasn't a dry eye in the room. All the pain she had felt, even minutes before, was gone. Not truly gone, but pushed aside by something much stronger. She was happy, over the moon, dance around the room, sing to the skies, on top of the world, walking on air, ecstatic, delighted, content, euphoric, and overjoyed. 

“ _Look at her, Steve_ ,” Peggy thought. “ _Look what we made_.” 

She tore her eyes away from her new baby to find the photo of Steve from the nursery. He seemed to watch the scene from the silver frame. She was at home and she had made sure the photo was in sight on the nightstand. 

“That is your father,” Peggy said aloud and kissed her daughter for the first time. “You will never get the chance to meet each other, but I know he loves very much. I love you very much.” 

**

After all the commotion, after it was all well and truly over, Peggy slept. She had given birth and she bloody well deserved it. Not that anyone was arguing. 

The midwife, a sturdy woman named Monica, was still in the house and, of course, Angie wouldn’t leave. 

In the last few days, when the stress of her pregnancy at been at its highest, Peggy had been bordering on paranoid. She knew it was her irrational side arguing with her rational side, but it didn’t mean she could stop it. Every time Angie left her sight, a little voice in the back of her mind asked, ‘ _What if something goes wrong?_ ’

Even Peggy didn’t know if that question referred to the baby or something happening to Angie. Something might happen. The feeling hadn’t gone anyway. Exhaustion deflating her rapture. She wasn’t quite ready to even consider letting her daughter out of her sight. A part of Steve. A little life that was here because of him. She was a legacy, and she was proof. He had lived. Closing her eyes to get the sleep she desperately needed had been a moral struggle. Knowing Angie would be there to watch over the baby had made all the difference. 

“Stay?” she had asked Angie. It was less to worry about if the people she cared most about were under one roof. Angie had practically moved it anyway. It wasn’t a big ask. 

Angie had nodded. With that, Peggy rested easy.

She woke to the sounds of Angie’s voice. She opened her eyes with a deep sigh. The room was dimly lit by one, half open shade. In the small beam of sunshine, Angie stood with the baby held out in front of her. She was making little fussing noises like she was trying to decide whether to get upset or not. 

“Yes,” Angie said in a half whisper and bouncing the bundle a little. “Yes, you are. Don’t deny it, Peanut.” 

Peggy said nothing or even move. She just watched the two of them. The scene looked so natural, so right. Peggy had hesitated when Monica had taken her daughter. Not that she didn’t trust the professional; it was just she didn’t really trust anyone. Expect for Angie. 

The baby let out a forceful squawk. 

“Yes, yes, I know,” said Angie. She put the baby against her chest. “Let let your mom sleep just a little bit longer. She did something really hard today.” 

Peggy cleared her throat and Angie glanced over. “Mum,” Peggy corrected. “She might have been born in America, but she will address me properly. God help me.” 

Angie laughed and moved back to the bed. Peggy pulled herself up, trying not to wince too much as she moved her battered body. Angie perched on the edge with the baby tucked in one arm. Her other hand lazily trace along Peggy’s forearm. 

“She is what?” Peggy asked. 

“She’s going to a troublemaker,” Angie said. “Just no way around it. She’s awake and taking it all in. She’s smart. Do you see the way she’s looking at everything already?” 

“I think she’s looking at you. She recognizes your voice.” 

“Is that a comment on how shrill I am?” asked Angie. 

“Of course not, darling. It’s not shrill—it carries.” 

Angie laughed sarcastically and stole a kiss.

They were both quiet for a moment. 

“How are you doing?” asked Angie, her tone serious. 

Peggy felt herself give Angie one of kind of smiles that broke Angie’s heart. She didn’t mean to, but she always tried to smile through the sadness. It reflected on Angie’s face. “I hurt. I’m tired. But I feel wide open, visceral, and happy.” 

“It’s a lot—I’m sure.” 

“I wish he could see her.” 

“I know.” 

“I’m glad you are here. I have a feeling I’m going to be thinking both things for a long time.” 

Angie’s cheeks tinged rosy. To distract from the moment, Angie handed the baby back to Peggy. It accomplished its goal as they adjusted both child and the corners of the blanket she was swaddled in. 

“I know you have a name picked out,” said Angie when all what settle. “Even though you wouldn’t tell me.” 

“I do. I’ve had one for a while. I just wanted to make sure it fit,” Peggy said, running her back of her finger along the baby’s cheek. 

“And?” Angie said. 

Peggy shrugged. “I can’t seem to say it.” 

“You're not anyone until someone knows your name,” Angie said. 

Peggy gave her a funny look. 

“I don’t know—it’s something my great aunt used to say. She needs a name. We can’t call her Peanut forever.” 

Peggy heard her said we, but let the moment pass. She swallowed and breathed out. She didn’t know what she scared of. She had been calling her daughter the name in mind for at least a month but hadn’t said it out loud yet. Her stomach clenched at the prospect. She had told herself she would stop asking for Steve’s permission, but she knew that was what she wanted. 

She wanted him to agree. A name was a big deal. It would be with their daughter for her entire life. She didn’t want to pick anything Steve might have hated. 

“What do you think?” Peggy asked. 

“Angela is nice,” Angie said quickly. 

“Really?” 

“No, not really. It’s your vote that counts.” 

“Yours matters too. At least I’d like it to matter. To me. To her.” She bit her lips and waited for a response. 

She couldn’t believe what she was saying. Was she betraying Steve? Was it too soon? He had only been gone less than a year. They had been together but had never named what they were. They were a war zone; who had time for labels? She had hoped to end up where he was after it was all over. They had loved each other. She didn’t doubt that, but they had never said it. How long do you wear black after something like that? 

Her heart told her not that she couldn’t live without Angie, but that she didn’t want to. She wanted to fall asleep every night beside Angie and she wanted to wake up next to her every morning. She wanted to kiss Angie before she left for work. She wanted Angie to help her daughter up when the girl inevitably fell. She wanted to listen to Angie complain about her day and sit in the front row when the curtains opened. She wanted to love Angie. 

Angie was looking at her. The gravity of what Peggy was asking shown on her face. “What do you mean?” 

Peggy held out her hand. “Stay. With us.” 

Angie took it. “You mean it?” 

“Stay,” Peggy repeated. 

“Okay,” Angie said simply. “I’m all in.” 

She leaned over and brush her nose against Peggy’s. Peggy closed her eyes, lingering on the edge of everything, on the relationship, on motherhood, on the kiss. Peggy kissed her gently. 

“What do you think about Grace?” Peggy asked, leaning back so she could see Angie's reaction. 

“It’s beautiful.” 

“By the Grace of God,” Peggy said and then a smile. “Grace. Her name is Grace.” 

“Well, hello Gracie. Welcome to the world.”


	5. Eight Years

**EIGHT YEARS**

With flintily and satisfaction, Peggy shut down her laptop, straightened the desk in her office, and then headed downstairs. 

It was the first nice day of spring and Peggy had the day off. As much of a day off as she ever really got. She spent the morning catching up while Gracie played with the nanny and Angie was at the theater. 

She was becoming quite adept at balancing home and work. She was still away more than she really liked, but she kept closer to normal working hours than she would have expected. Actually taking the time to be at home when she was in between cases, like today, was getting more routine. Even though she had accrued enough hours to earn herself a full week off, she had realistic expectations about her ability to sit still. The occasional Friday was easy to pull off.

Peggy heard Chelsea’s, the nanny, voice before she reached the ground floor. 

“I hear someone coming. Who do you think it is?” Chelsea asked in a high tone. 

There was a jumbled response from the baby and then Peggy stepping into view. Gracie squealed and leaped up from play mat. All toys and Chelsea were completely abandoned as she crawled across the floor, scrambling towards Peggy as fast as her chubby limbs could carry her. 

It was hard to explain the amount of love that surged in Peggy’s chest when she saw her child. She had thought she understood love before. She had loved, been in love before. It was, in fact, because of love she had Gracie at all. The feeling that poured out of her now was on a different level. 

Peggy made is easier for the small girl and scooped Gracie up in a grand gesture. She buried her nose in Gracie’s soft belly and blew a very loud raspberry. Gracie giggled uncontrollably. 

“Muma,” said Gracie when she had gathered herself. 

Peggy leaned back and brushed dark curls off Gracie’s forehead. She planted a kiss right in the middle and leaving behind a perfect mark in her signature red lipstick. “Hello, darling.” 

“That was about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” said Chelsea as she stood up. 

She was Asian with dark hair and eyes. She was a student getting her master’s in education. She was easy-going, smart, flexible with her time, didn’t even blink when she found out her charge had two moms. They were all very fond of each other. 

Peggy grinned stupidly. “I missed her.” It didn’t matter she was only upstairs. 

“We managed to trick her this time.” 

Working from home wasn’t always easy if Gracie figured out Peggy was home. She wasn’t even a year old, and she was hard to fool. 

“She’s too smart,” they said together. 

“What are you doing with the rest of your day off?” Peggy asked, still hugging Gracie close. 

“Library,” said Chelsea with a face. “But I can stay to help with lunch.” 

“We’re going to see Mama,” Peggy said, bouncing Gracie a little. “And I wouldn’t dream of keeping you from your studies.” 

“My plan is foiled. I will help clean up before I go. C’mon, Gracie.” 

It was Chelsea’s only strict rule: clean up your own mess. Peggy reluctantly put her daughter down and supervised. She tried to help, but Chelsea told her to sit and Peggy obeyed. 

It was very hard to get a baby to put their toys away, but Chelsea was doing her best to give Gracie good habits from the start. It was bordering on comical watching Chelsea trying to direct Gracie to just drop at least one toy into the bin. 

“ _Look at her, Steve_ ,” Peggy thought as she often did. “ _Look what we made_.” 

She hoped he could see what an incredible child they had created. She hoped he knew how much love she gave and much she was loved by her mothers. She hoped he thought they were doing a good job. 

After Chelsea left, Peggy waited just long enough to give Gracie a snack to keep her from fussing before they got ready to go find Angie. Gracie wasn’t the only one Peggy had missed terribly. She didn’t want to wait any longer. 

An hour later, Peggy was marching up an avenue through the theater district. She had to dodge the myriad of tourists to weave her way through Time Square. Not easy, but the sights and sounds kept Grace occupied in the baby carrier strapped to Peggy’s front. It made her feel like a kangaroo, but it was the much easier than pushing a stroller along the sidewalks. 

Inside the lobby of the theater, the man behind the glass box-office smiled immediately at them. 

“If it isn’t the Martinelli girls!” he boomed, his voice a little distorted through the microphone. 

His name was Tom, and he was the manager of the theater and a lifelong New Yorker. He was about the friendliest person Peggy had ever met. He remembered every name and every face, so he knew perfectly well neither Peggy or Grace’s last name was Martinelli. Not that she minded getting lumped together with Angie. 

He disappeared for a moment and exited the booth. 

“What bring you ladies uptown on a weekday?” He bent down to Grace’s level. “Hi, beautiful,” he added. 

Gracie made a happy baby noise. 

“I was hoping to sneak in,” Peggy said. “I had the day off, so we came to surprise Angie for lunch.” 

“I heard him yelling about keeping them until it was right.” 

“Damn,” Peggy said. She tried not to be so disappointed. She had seen Angie that morning and would see her in the evening, but they had come all this way. 

The he Tom was talking about was the director, Robinson Fischer. One of those brilliant, but an ass kind of artists. No one dared cross him—or interrupt his rehearsal. 

“They need an interruption,” he said and motioned for her to follow. 

Feeling a little uneasy about disrupting, Peggy didn't move. She didn’t want to get Angie into trouble. This was Angie second big production in the time they’d been together. It wasn't her big break, but it was establishing her firmly as a member of the community. Robinson had a great deal of influence and, they said, if an actor could make it through a show with him, they came out on the other side for the better and with more options. This was important and Peggy would not jeopardize it. 

“I don't want to cause any trouble,” she said. 

“Blame it on me if anything goes wrong.” 

She walked through and slowly down the center aisle, stopping about halfway to the stage. Angie, another actor, and the director were center stage. The director—pale skinned, small, and angry—moved around the actors as they worked. Surrounding them was a dozen other cast members. 

It was an intimate scene. The man’s character was in love with Angie’s character and she had given into his persuasion. She was feeling guilty and revealing something dramatic about her past. He was upset by the revelation. He prowled like a wolf deciding when to attack and she quaked before him. The actor circled closer to Angie, performing his heart out. He interrupted Angie mid-sentence to kiss her. 

Peggy knew it was fake, knew it was an act, but she couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy. It was like taking a long drag on a cigarette, unhealthy, satisfying, and something she shouldn’t be doing. 

“What is Mama doing?” Peggy asked Gracie. “She’s going to be in so much trouble.” 

Peggy was used to running lines with Angie off her marked script. Just last night, after Gracie was asleep, they had laid in their bed and worked on the scene. Peggy had desperately tried to read out lines in between Angie’s kisses. Peggy had professed her undying love to Angie’s character as Angie’s lips had moved down to Peggy’s collar bone. Their little rehearsal had ended after that. 

Angie hadn’t been in character then; she had been reciting. Now, she transformed. There was weight and passion in Angie’s words. She moved like a different person. Peggy knew she was talented, but somehow it always caught her off guard to see Angie disappear so thoroughly. 

Strangely, the jealousy was mixed pride. Angie could do that. Her Angie could embody someone else so completely Peggy was jealous. Of a man. 

Angie finished the bulk of her lines and there was a heavy pause before she said the last. The cast was watching; the director was watching. Even Gracie seemed fascinated. Peggy held her breath. 

Right in the middle of the charged moment, another man walked out on stage. He was reading off a clipboard. 

“Hey, Mr. Fischer—”

Everyone on stage jumped at the sound of the voice and Robinson let out a roar of anger. Gracie started to cry. If the interruption hadn’t ruined the scene, the director’s ranting certainly had. The newcomer scampered. 

“No one move!” yelled Robinson and went tearing after the poor man. 

“Excuse me,” said Tom politely and hurried off to deal with the mess. 

Despite the command to stay in position, the crowd almost immediately dispersed. A few people even left the stage. The others relaxed, chatting. Peggy focused on settling her daughter. She unhooked from the carried so she could hold her close. Gracie curled against her as Peggy rocked and bounced. 

“Is that a baby?” someone asked. 

Half the crowd was already peering into the empty audience. Peggy felt the eyes. She was happier out of the spotlight. Angie shielded her eyes against the bright lights and saw who it was. She let out a happy squeal and waved wildly. 

“Ang’s baby apparently,” the first person said. 

"Both her babies,” said someone else. The actors all laughed. 

Angie looked like a horse at the starting gate. She didn't even take a step off her mark, but she was practically dancing on the spot, gesturing for Peggy to come closer. 

Peggy continued down the aisle to the stage until she at right at the edge. It was a small theater, but it did have a raised staged that came to about Peggy’s chest. 

“Look, Peanut,” said Peggy, holding Gracie up. “Look who’s waving.” 

Gracie was already calming down, and that was last distraction she needed. Her cries turned into little hiccups. She squirmed in Peggy’s grasp, so Peggy set her on the stage, and let her go. Angie called to Gracie and she was off, crawling to her Mama with a big smile and her earlier scare forgotten. The other actors collectively aww’ed and Peggy grinned to herself. She had to admit she had one cute kid with her big brown eyes, perfectly curled tawny hair, and an easy smile. 

Angie scooped up the baby and snapped back to her mark. “Hi Peanut!" she said happily. “Isn't this just the greatest surprise!” 

“I hope we're not interrupting,” said Peggy as she leaned her elbows on the edge of the stage. 

“He won’t be back for about an hour. He’s worst than any actor I’ve ever met,” Angie said. A few people laughed again. 

As if to illustrate the point, a woman who looked like a stage manager appeared from a wing. “Lunch everyone,” she said. “One hour.” 

Even more of the group left the stage. 

“Get up here. I want to introduce you,” Angie said. 

Peggy bit her lip and hesitated for a moment. She could act a little. She could put on voices and play someone else when she needed to. But, she didn’t belong on the stage. That was Angie’s place. 

“Not shy, are we?” asked the man Angie had just been kissing. 

“Certainly not,” Peggy said and hopped up onto the stage. 

She moved to Angie’s side and gave her a kiss hello—marking her terrioty—before looking at the man. He was tall, dark-haired, and very much the typical actor handsome. He was less impressive with all the intensity of the scene missing. 

“Peg, this is Theo,” Angie said. 

Peggy held out a hand. “Nice to meet you.” Not strictly true, but what else was she supposed to say?

He shook her hand. “You too. Sorry about stealing your girl. We’ll have to go out to dinner with my wife and then everyone can feel awkward about it.” 

Peggy thought maybe she had judged him too quickly. 

“And this is Gracie,” Angie added, bouncing her a little on her hip. 

He waved and Gracie waved back. “Okay, I’m going to get food before the vultures pick the table clean. I was serious about dinner,” he said with another wave to Peggy and then left. 

“Do you want to stay here?” Peggy asked, only just remembering lunch was provided. 

“Heck no. You’re taking me out.” 

“Good,” said Peggy. She snaked a hand across Angie’s hips and yanked her closer. “I don’t like to share.”


	6. Seven Years

**SEVEN YEARS**

Who knew an hour could make such a difference? At one point in Peggy’s life, an extra day, an extra week would not have made any difference. Missions were missions, and they took as long as they needed. Only the minutes with the enemy bearing down had ever seemed to matter. Those situations were behind her. Mostly. A lot had changed. Today, her flight’s delay was costing her dearly. 

The sun had set as the town car drove away from the airport, at last on the final leg home. Peggy checked her watch again, and the minutes passed Gracie’s bedtime ticked by. New York traffic hadn't helped. Peggy had been away for six nights, seven days. Her longest trip by far since becoming a mother. 

She missed her family. She missed her girlfriend, and she missed her baby. Gracie was two now, so perhaps not quite a baby anymore, but, as the cliche went, she would always be Peggy’s baby. 

She winced as the car rounded a corner and put a hand against her ribs to support herself. The mission had put her right back in the middle of it all. The idea of danger being fun had certainly worn off. Two in the vest. It wasn’t a bad injury. Bruised ribs. The bullets were a small caliber, but the blue and deep purple marks across her torso looked nasty. Small caliber could still damage as the scars on her shoulder showed. The bruises would heal without a mark, but it was painful now. 

The driver pulled over in front of Peggy’s building. She hardly waited for the car to roll to a stop before getting out. She moved carefully, but at normal speed. That was the rule for bruised ribs. She needed to minimize it as best she could. The lecture from Angie was unavoidable because she would see the bruises, but Peggy could always grit her teeth and make it seem less than it was. It was hard to act like it was little more than business trips when she came home injured. Angie knew, of course, but she didn’t have to know everything. 

Peggy unlocked the front door. The sound of the keys in the lock had somehow become something she treasured. It meant coming home, or it meant someone she loved was coming home. From either side of the door, the click was a satisfying sound. Homesickness was still a new feeling for Peggy; she had never had a real reason to yearn for home. She was used to missing people, but during the war she had only missed comforts. There was never a longing for a specific place. 

She breathed in deeply as she walked through the door. What the smell was was hard to say, but it smelled of home. It was a scent she only noticed when she had been away or when she buried her nose against Angie’s skin. That was all she wanted to do right now. And plant a kiss on Gracie. 

She dropped her bag in the hallway and closed the door behind her. 

“I’m home,” she called as loud as she dared. She didn't want to wake the baby. 

There was no answer. No quick footsteps rushing to greet her. No arms being thrown around her neck, the surest sign she was home at last. 

"Angie?" she said as she moved further into the living room. 

The lights were on. The TV was broadcasting the news at low volume. There was evidence of cooking stacked in the sink. It was late for Grace, but it was only ten. Angie operated on a theater schedule even though she was between productions. She stayed up late and woke only for Gracie. 

She took a few more steps inside trying to decide if she should be concerned when she found her family. 

It was Angie's toes she spotted first, poking over the arm of the large sectional sofa. The couch was a divider between the entrance and the living room so she hadn't been able to see there was anyone on it. 

Peggy crept closer and looked over the back of over-stuffed cushions. Stretched out on the couch was a sleeping Angie with their daughter curled on her chest. They were both in their pajamas. Ready for bed but waiting for Peggy and unable to keep awake. No matter where Angie slept, it always looked as if she had just collapsed. Limbs spread out taking up as much space as humanly possible. Angie didn't lie down—she flopped. One leg rested on the arm while the other hung over the edge. One arm was holding Grace with the other flung over her head. Her mouth was slightly open and Gracie rose and fall in time with Angie’s breathing. It wasn’t terribly attractive, but Peggy fell a little more in love her partner. Gracie, on the other hand, looked angelic. 

Practically tiptoeing, she slipped around the front of the sofa and crouched down by Angie’s head. Peggy grimaced as she stretched in the wrong way but braced herself again. When she was steady, she kissed Angie on the cheek. 

Angie sighed and opened an eye. She smiled through a deep yawn. 

“I get to come home to this,” Peggy said. “How lucky am I?” 

“You’re home.” Angie’s smile got a little big. 

“At last.” 

“I’m glad.” 

“Me too.”

Angie pushed herself up suddenly. With one arm still holding onto Grace, she curled herself into an almost normal sitting position. She caught Peggy by the collar and pulled her in for a proper hello kiss. Only Peggy wasn’t expecting it. The romantic gesture unbalanced Peggy’s careful position, and she gasped even though her lips were still pressed to Angie’s. 

Angie let go at once. “English,” she said in a voice that was half concern and half a scold. 

“I’m fine,” Peggy said too quickly.

“What happened?” 

“I’m fine,” she repeated and reached for Grace. 

She lifted Gracie off Angie’s chest. The movement sent another ripple of pain through Peggy’s body, but she tried to ignore it. She had known it was coming and tried keep her face neutral. Mostly neutral at least. Angie’s eyes got a little bigger. She nearly always saw straight through Peggy. 

For a moment, Peggy’s focus wasn’t on her injury or even Angie. She only noticed the weight of her daughter in her arms. A feeling she had missed. 

Gracie stirred and made a noise of complaint as she was disturbed. 

“I’m home, Peanut,” said Peggy and kissed Grace’s forehead. 

Grace looked up sleepily, blinking in the lights. “Mummy?” she asked. 

“Hi, darling.” 

“Mummy!” 

Grace didn't have anything else to add. She curled against her mother, tucking her head under Peggy’s chin. Peggy hugged her close. She took in a deep breath and stood up, pushing straight passed the part in the movement that hurt. 

“Are you okay?” Angie asked. 

“I’m fine. I’m grateful you tried to stay up,” Peggy said, changing the subject. “It’s hours passed Gracie’s bedtime, but what’s your excuse?”

“Being a mom is hard. We’re not done.” 

“I’ll put her to bed and you can go back to sleep.” 

“Peggy!” 

“Shh, you’ll wake her properly.” 

“Don’t shh me,” Angie snapped. 

“It’s just a bruised rib. It’ll heal.” 

“I'm glad to hear that, but—”

“There is always a but,” Peggy said and wished she hadn’t. 

“Hey!”

Grace made another noise. 

“I'm putting her to bed,” Peggy said. 

“Can you manage?” Angie asked. 

“I'm fine,” Peggy said again. 

“Big liar,” Angie said to herself and Peggy chose to ignore the comment. 

This wasn't what she wanted; this wasn't what she imagined after a week away. 

Peggy headed upstairs with Grace in her arms and she tried to leave the fight downstairs. She pushed open the door to Gracie’s room with her toe and clicking on a little night light that threw large stars across the walls. They danced around the room as Peggy laid Grace in her toddler-sized bed and tucked the blanket around Grace’s shoulders. She made sure her favorite stuffed dog was in the bed. She had tried to give it to Peggy to take with her. 

Peggy sank to the floor, letting herself move in whatever awkward way she needed to minimize the pain, and rested her chin in one palm. She brushed a lock of hair off Gracie’s forehead. 

Peggy remembered a night watch in the middle of winter. She, Steve, a Howling Commando or two in a hastily built lean-to with only Peggy awake. It had been her job to keep them safe, but she had been preoccupied with Steve’s sleeping outline. He was curled as small as he could make himself. The world so still except for small breathing sounds from the men who trusted her. No one was moving; the night around them quiet too. It had been a year before the end. 

Grace looked the same as he did that night. Gracie’s cheeks were chubbier and, on the whole, she was much smaller, but she looked like Steve. Her hair was darker like Peggy’s, but there was something about her features that were very much her father’s. Peggy had a few a Steve’s personal effects—she had been the closest thing to next of kin—including an old photo album with his baby photos. 

“ _Look at her, Steve_ ,” Peggy thought as she often did. “ _Look what we made_.”

“I love you so much,” Peggy said aloud. “I have never been so happy to be home. Even if Mama and I fight.” 

Gracie was probably used to the sharp tones her mothers sometimes used with each other. It wasn't the best habit, but both Peggy and Angie kept their emotions close to the surface. Things like anger were always accessible; it also meant those same things didn't run very deep. Other pools were much deeper. 

She braced her ribs and leaned over to place another kiss on Gracie’s forehead. 

“I’ll see you in the morning.” 

She didn’t get up though. In part because she didn’t want to leave, and in part because she was reluctant to face Angie. Because she didn’t want to fight minutes after getting home. Because she knew whatever Angie’s point would be, she would probably be right. Because Peggy couldn’t do what she knew Angie would ask. 

It wasn’t until her foot fell asleep did she finally get up. She left the stars to dance around the room and slipped into the hallway. Angie was sitting on the stairs to the third floor, waiting for her. 

“I should’ve known this was gonna take longer than a few minutes,” Angie said in a whisper. 

Peggy scowled. “I wasn’t avoiding you,” she said even though some part of her had been. 

She stalked past and into the bedroom. Angie had brought her bag up. It was sitting on the bed and she wrenched it open to start unpacking the contents. Angie followed and leaned against the doorjamb. 

“That wasn’t a comment. I know you missed her,” Angie said. 

“She wasn’t the only one I missed,” said Peggy almost angrily. “This isn’t the homecoming I wanted.” 

She pulled out an armload of laundry and gasped as her body twisted. 

“Stop,” said Angie as she moved further into the room and pulled Peggy’s hand away. “Stop. Just tell me what happened.” 

“The vest did its job,” Peggy said. 

“As in bulletproof vest?” Angie said in a flat tone. 

“I’m fine.” 

“Let me see.” 

Peggy shuddered as Angie tugged at the edge of her shirt. This was what she had been hoping to avoid. She didn’t want it to be a presentation. Still, she let Angie lift her shirt. 

There were two bullseyes. One on her chest and the other closer to the stomach and more on her side. Angie touched Peggy’s skin so she barely felt it. 

“I know how bad it looks, alright? You don’t have to say it,” Peggy said and tugged out of Angie’s grasp. “I’ll be fine. It’s just painful.” 

“And what about next time?” 

“I’m as careful as I can be. I know you’re going to ask me to stay home, but I just can’t. I would go crazy knowing there are people risking their lives while I sit on my arse. I do this for you and for our daughter because I’m trying to make the world safer.” 

“I’m not asking you to stay,” Angie said with a sigh. “I had a pretty good idea of what I would be getting myself into. You were running around and getting into trouble in the first months I knew you—while you were pregnant. That clearly said what kind of woman you are. I’m not going to force you to change. I just want to safe.” She turned away. “Don’t you dare leave me.” 

“I would never,” Peggy said. 

“I’m sure Steve thought the same thing.”

Peggy sank onto the edge of the bed. The breath left her body. Never once had she considered it. Of course, she did everything to stay safe, to come home. She wasn’t as reckless as she once had been, but she still jumped. She had never thought what would happen to her family if she never came home. Her concerns were always focused on what happened if she failed to stop whatever catastrophe was at hand. 

“You know what it feels like and I’m not as strong as you,” Angie said. “Don’t make me find the strength. Don’t let Grace grow up without you.”

“I’m sorry,” Peggy said but wasn’t exactly sure for what. For being herself. For needed to leave. For putting Angie in a position where Peggy had already been. She stared down at her hands. “I didn’t think—I never think.” 

Angie sat down next to her and rested her chin on Peggy’s shoulder. “I’m not angry. I miss you when you go and, God, I worry.” 

“I miss you, too. I don’t want to you to worry.” 

“Inevitable. My partner saves the world. It’s very brave of her, but I don’t care about the rest of the world. I just want her here with me and our kid. You have to promise me you will always come home.”

“I promise.” No one could make that promise. 

“You have to promise me you won’t keep things from me. Imagining it so much worse.” 

“I promise,” Peggy said and she could do more than try to keep that one. “Can we start again?” 

Angie gently turned Peggy’s face, and they kissed. It was slow and patient and nothing Peggy felt she deserved. 

“Hi,” said Peggy dreamily when Angie pulled back. 

“Welcome home.”


	7. Five Years

**FIVE YEARS**

Peggy heard Gracie's call and was awake at once. Work had been even busier than usual and she had been running on two or three hours of sleep for days. This was her first chance for real sleep. The investigation had ended and tomorrow was Saturday. In fact, it was already the wee hours of Saturday morning. 

But her daughter needed her. 

"Wuss the matter?" asked Angie as Peggy untangled herself. 

"Grace." 

Angie's eyes opened. "Another nightmare?" 

"Think so. Damn that Stark," she said as she shoved the covers off her legs. 

"Who shows a four-year-old a horror movie?" Angie said into her pillow. 

"Who lets Stark near a four-year-old?" Peggy said sarcastically. It had been in part her decision to let Howard talk them into babysitting.

"Mummy!" came Gracie's voice again. 

Peggy pick up her pace. Angie flopped back onto her pillow. She didn't offer to go as she used to do for the middle of the night feedings. They both knew there was only one person their daughter wanted. 

Normally, it was Grace and Angie who were peas in a pod. She went to Angie when she wanted to play. She went to Angie when she was hungry. She went to Angie when she needed just about anything. Grace came to Peggy when she was scared or when she bumped her head. She preferred the way Peggy read stories and, apparently, Peggy was a better cuddled. Her relationship with Peggy was quiet where it was loud and playful with Angie. Each mother gave Gracie exactly what she needed and Peggy didn't mind the difference. 

She padded down the hallway and flicked on the light, blinking but not waiting to adjust. She let the light spill into Gracie's room as she pushed open the door. 

Grace was tangled in her sheets, hair a mess, and tears shining on her cheeks. She wasn't quite aware enough to realize what was happening; she was still tangled in the dream. This was the third or fourth nightmare in a week. It was physically painful to see Gracie like this because Peggy knew exactly the terror her child was in the grip of. Peggy couldn't stop it from happening to herself and she couldn't stop it from happening to Grace. At least, she also knew exactly what to do. 

Moving to the bedside, Peggy pulled Gracie out of the nest of covers and into her arms. She settled on the mattress with Grace on her lap, cradling her as if she was still small. Grace kept her face buried against Peggy. 

"I'm here, my darling. You're safe. It was only a dream," Peggy said then repeated it a few times. 

She used Angie's words when Peggy herself had nightmares. She wasn't plagued by them as she once was, but what she had seen and done during the fighting had had profound effects. Losing Steve had had its effect. 

She soothed and rocked and showered Gracie in kisses in between her words. Slowly, small shoulders stopped shaking, and she looked up. 

"Sorry, Mummy. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry," Gracie said in little hiccups. 

"Don't worry about me. This isn't your fault. I just want to make sure you're okay." 

Gracie nodded though her bottom was still sticking out. 

"My brave girl," Peggy said and kissed her daughter on the forehead. "Everyone gets nightmares, even mummies" 

"You...you do?" 

"Yes, quite bad ones in fact. Mama has to wake me up."

"Did you see a scary movie too?" Grace asked. 

Peggy almost smiled. "No, darling. There are other things that scare me." 

"Like what?" 

Peggy didn't know if was pure curiosity or seeking solidarity, but answering that question honestly would not help Gracie sleep. Four-year-olds should not know about the horrors of war. God willing, her daughter never would. She had promised herself from the very beginning, she would be as upfront with Gracie as she could be. 

"Part of me is very scared something will happen to you or Mama or someone else I love," she said. 

Peggy knew what it was like to lose people suddenly and violently; she knew what it was like to take a life suddenly and violently. Gracie didn't need to know any of that. Not yet at any rate. Someday the day would come when an honest answer would be right. 

"Like what?" Gracie asked. 

Another answer that would not help Gracie sleep. She didn't need to know about the number of horrific things that Peggy dreamt befell her loved ones. It varied wildly but nearly always involved her not being able to save them in time. She was usually helpless. She heard radio static a lot, too. Just last week, Angie had roused her from a particularly bad one where Peggy was being tortured into choosing between her partner and her daughter. One would live and the other die and hadn't mattered how many times Peggy had pleaded "I can't, I can't, I can't." 

"It doesn't matter because it's illogical," Peggy said. "It's just like you know that the monster isn't real. I know you and Mama are okay, but sometimes my fears get the better of me. I get confused between awake and dreams. How about you?" 

Gracie nodded. "Me too." 

"I thought so." She gave Grace a little squeeze. 

"Is it 'cause of my dad that you get scared?" 

Peggy kissed Gracie on the forehead again. Her daughter was very smart. "It is." 

"What happened to him?" she asked for the thousandth time. 

"He died in a plane crash." 

"What was he like?" Peggy mouthed the question as Gracie said it. 

Peggy brushed her fingertips lightly over Gracie's face, telling her to close her eyes. Gracie did and leaned a little more against her mum. She sighed, safe in Peggy's arms, and ready to sleep again. 

Gracie asked about Steve all the time. Peggy was as open as she could be. Grace knew about Steve; she knew how she had come to be in the world. She knew more about Project Rebirth and Captain America than a four-year-old probably should. But there was, of course, a lot Peggy hadn't said and never would. 

"Well," said Peggy. "Your father was a hero in every sense of the word. He was strong and smart and so brave. He had a shield he always, always used it to protect other people..." 

It didn't take long for Gracie to drift off again. Kids were so resilient as they said. If Peggy hadn't been so tired herself, she might have stayed a while. Her own bed called to her. She let out her own deep sigh as she slipped back under the covers. 

"She out again?" Angie mumbled. She was flat on her stomach, hugging her pillow, and looked like she was asleep. Only her lips had moved when she spoke.

"Asleep, yes," said Peggy. 

She inched closer to Angie and leaned her forehead against Angie's shoulder, sharing the pillow. Angie rolled over and circled Peggy in her arms. It was exactly what Peggy had been asking for without actually asking. They were both asleep in minutes. 

Gracie's call came again and someone grabbed Peggy from behind. She twisted in the grasp just enough to see the face. She recognized it. He was nameless, The Enemy. A man she had killed up close. They had both had their hands on the gun. They had both been able to get to the trigger. They had both only needed to aim the gun somewhere but the ceiling. He was taller, larger, but, this time, being below her enemy had been an advantage. He was dead—she knew that—but he was holding her now with the bullet hole in his chin still bleeding. He had her. He was dead, and he was dragging her with him wherever he was going to next. 

"Ouch! Peggy, you gotta wake up. You're safe. It's only a dream. Babe, it's me. It's Angie. You're safe."

Peggy opened her eyes. She recognized her bedroom in the dim, grey morning light. It was Angie holding firmly Peggy’s arms as she thrashed. Peggy was out of breath and her pajamas clung to her skin with sweat. 

"Angie," she gasped. 

“Yeah, I’m here. You’re okay. Everyone is okay.” 

Angie let go, but slowly like she was still worried Peggy might lash out again. The tight grip turned into something softer, more soothing. Peggy leaned into the embrace, letting it ground her. 

“Did I hurt you?” Sometimes her flailing was forceful. 

“Caught an elbow. I’m fine.”

“Everyone is okay?” Peggy asked. She was catching her breath. 

“Safe and sound. Yourself included.” 

“But Gracie, she—”

“Had a nightmare a few hours ago. She’s fast asleep now.”

“You’re sure?” Peggy said and even she thought her voice sounded small. 

“I’m sure.” 

“What a pair. I don't know how you put up with us. Have you got a single full night of sleep since we've been together?" 

"There was that one weekend.” Angie paused. “Oh wait, I was out of town. In a hotel. Alone."

“I hate it when I wake up without you,” Peggy said and her voice wavered for a moment. 

Angie gave her a little squeeze. “I’m here.”

She didn't have to be brave for Angie; she didn't have to be Agent Carter or Mum. She could be held and not feel embarrassed. And it was all she needed. 

Neither spoke again as Peggy’s heart rate returned to normal. Exhausted by two interruptions, Angie fell back to sleep, but Peggy knew it was useless to try. Her mind was playing the nightmare on repeat. She was content as she could be as she watched the room get brighter and brighter. She listened to the sound of her partner breathing and was comforted by that. 

She heard little footsteps coming down the hall and she lifted her head off the pillow in time to see Gracie’s face peer around the door. Peggy had believed Angie. Logically, she had known their daughter was safe. But it was a relief to see proof. She motioned Gracie closer and Gracie scampered over to dive under the covers. 

Gracie always seemed to fit in Peggy’s arm just right no matter how big she grew. Grace smiled dopily and cuddled close. She wasn't quite ready to be awake. 

"Morning, Peanut," Peggy whispered. “I was thinking pancakes for breakfast, but you know I'm rubbish at flipping them. I need your help. Do you accept this mission?" 

Grace’s eyes lit up. “I do!” 

Peggy laughed softly. “Okay, okay. Don't wake Mama. She had a long night." 

She rolled over, taking Grace with her until they both had their feet on the floor. Grace ran off at once while Peggy moved a little more slowly. She retrieved her black and red dressing gown from the back of the closet door, pulled the shades down further so the room darkened again, and then padded downstairs on bare feet. She left Angie to sleep. 

In the kitchen, Grace was already making a mess. She had three times as many bowls and spatulas as they needed out on the counters. She was pulling over a stool to get something else from a higher shelf. Peggy caught her around the waist and pulled her away. 

"That's quite enough," said Peggy. "Let's get the ingredients. Can you remember what we need?" 

"Chocolate chips?" 

Peggy laughed. Of course, that was first on her mind. First on Peggy’s mind was coffee. Once the pot was made, she directed her troop as they made a further mess of the kitchen. 

Peggy poured a dollop of batter onto the hot griddle. 

"Now!" yelled Grace. 

Peggy scooped at last of the batch off the griddle and onto the plate. "Well done, my darling. Those are perfect pancakes. I couldn't have done it without you. Now the best part." 

"What's that?" 

"Eating them." 

Grace cheered. 

Peggy set her at the island with a tall stack of pancakes. She filled her mug again and leaned on the contain, eating a pancake without syrup with her hands. Grace's pancakes did have syrup, and it was all down her chin. They talked about nothing and everything. Peggy could listen to Gracie all day. The way she saw the world. The way she understood it. It fascinated Peggy. 

After a while, Peggy heard movement upstairs. She filled another mug with coffee. 

"I'm going to wake Mama before the pancakes get cold," said Peggy. 

"Can I watch cartoons? Please?" 

Peggy got the TV remote and held it out to her daughter. 

Gracie eyed it somewhat suspiciously. TV was a treat. "Really?" 

Peggy nodded. Grace took it and turned on the TV. 

"But you have to stay at the table. No syrup on the couch," said Peggy. 

Gracie nodded, distracted by her favorite channel. 

Peggy bend down right in front of Grace and blocked her view. "Let me hear you say it." 

"Mummy!" 

"Did you hear me?" 

"Not on the couch." 

"Good girl." 

Peggy took the mug and went to find Angie. Upstairs in the bedroom, Angie was pulling on her own dressing gown. 

"Morning, babe," Angie said, seeing Peggy enter in the reflection in the mirror. 

"I have coffee," Peggy answered and passed over the mug. "And there are pancakes and a sticky child downstairs." 

"You are a goddess." Angie smiled as she sipped her coffee. 

“Rough night, eh?” Standing behind Angie and still looking at each other in the reflection, she put her chin on Angie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she added and tried to smile. 

“I wish I could do more. For both of you. I know you can’t control it.” 

"Still, I'm grateful." She pulled down the shoulder of Angie's robe and kissed her bare skin. The same way she kissed Peggy's scars. "I should say it every day." 

"You show it. You let me sleep in this morning. I don't know if there's any way to show love better." 

Peggy could think of one way and Gracie with distracted by morning cartoons, she pulled Angie towards the bed.


	8. Three Years

**THREE YEARS**

Peggy didn't look up from her laptop when she heard the key in the lock. She still had work to do and if she used even this last minute now, it would mean one less minute later. She tried to leave the office at 5:30 precisely every day to be home with her family for the evening. 

Family dinner, helping Gracie with her homework, tucking her into bed, Peggy hated to miss these things. However, it often meant leaving rather in the middle things and picking back up later after Angie and Gracie were asleep. The schedule left little time for sleep, but it minimized the number of important things she missed and that was more valuable. 

She squeezed in every second she could before Angie and Grace burst through the door, bringing autumn air and their loud energy with them. 

Peggy closed the laptop at once and glanced up with a smile. "Hello, my darlings!" she called. 

Gracie ran to greet her and jumped onto her lap. Peggy squeezed her tightly. Angie followed, gathering the backpack and coat carelessly discarded by their daughter. She dropped it all onto the island with her own purse. 

"How were your days?" Peggy asked. 

Gracie ignored the question and interrupted Angie's answer. 

"Mama has something to show you," she said as she leaned across the counter to grab for Angie's purse. 

Angie lunged forward and caught Gracie's wrist but not before Peggy had seen the corner of what she was going for. She had seen a flash of the yellow of a Playbill. 

"Not now," said Angie sharply. 

Peggy frowned. "What is it?" 

Again, Gracie started to spill, but Angie spoke over her. "Nothing. Later." The second word was directly at Gracie, who was clearly not following directions. 

"Everything alright?" Peggy asked. 

"Of course," Angie said, breezily. "How was _your_ day?" 

"All fine. Busy. You didn't answer my question." 

"Tell her about school, Peanut," Angie said. 

"Yes, darling," Peggy said as she bounced her knees a little. "How was school?" 

Gracie giggled and gave her answer. 

The moment passed as Gracie chatted about her day. Peggy wasn't about to let it go forever; no matter their intentions, which she was sure were good, she didn't like that her girls were conspiring. It wasn't her birthday so was it wasn't a surprise party. 

Peggy eyed Angie, who raised an eyebrow and was not ready to give it up. She smiled and shook her head. 

Peggy helped her daughter with her homework and Angie got started on dinner. After a bit, Peggy left Gracie to her school work and when to Angie. She leaned on the counter and stole a cut of pepper. 

"What aren't you telling me?" Peggy asked coyly. 

"Oh nothing," said Angie in the same tone.

"Gracie knows." 

"She's sworn to secrecy." 

"Didn't do a great job." She nudged Angie's hip. "C'mon, tell me." 

"I'll tell you on Friday." 

"What's on Friday?" Peggy said, stealing another pepper. She crunched into it. 

"Date night. The sitter is already staying late. And dress up. The place is fancy." 

"Fancy? What are we celebrating?” said Peggy. She ran a checklist in her head. While Angie’s play was wildly successful, she’d been doing it for months. Peggy herself hadn’t been promoted. It wasn’t anyone’s birthday or their anniversary. 

"Are we celebrating anything?” Angie asked casually, still focusing on the cutting vegetables. 

“It feels as though we are.” 

Angie looked back at her and grinned. “I just wanted it to be special.” 

"I'll see if I can," Peggy said with a pleading look. "Work, you know?" 

Angie sighed, but didn't comment. "I know." 

"No!" said Gracie from the other side of the room. "You have to go!" 

"Hush, Grace," said Angie, turning. "It's fine." 

"Mama, she's has to!" 

"Shh, we know how busy Mummy is. Her job is important." 

"Not this time it's not!" 

She jumped up and dove for Angie's purse again. She yanked out the Playbill. 

"Grace!" Angie yelled, but it was too late. 

Gracie dashed around the island with Angie tearing after her. Peggy was laughing until she caught the desperation on Angie’s face. She wasn’t playing a game. 

“Grace Sarah Rogers. Enough. Listen to your mother,” Peggy said in a commanding tone. It worked on soldiers and six-year-olds. 

Grace Sarah Rogers stopped dead in her tracks and allowed Angie to grab the Playbill. 

“Thank you,” Angie said. “I’m regretting tell you, missy.” 

Gracie’s big eyes got even wider, and she moved closer to Angie like a puppy. She wrapped her arms around Angie’s waist and pressed her face into her stomach. 

“It’s okay,” said Angie to whatever Gracie was saying. 

“What is going on?” demanded Peggy. 

“Nothing,” said Angie, but her cheeks went rosy. 

“Tell her,” pleaded Gracie, looking up at Angie. “Please, please, please!” 

“Yes, Mama, tell me,” said Peggy. 

Angie looked helplessly between the two of them. “This isn’t how I want to do it,” she said. 

“Do what?” said Peggy. 

Angie closed her eyes for a moment. “Fine,” she said when she opened them again. 

Despite the efforts she had just undergone to get the program back, she held it out for Gracie. 

Gracie smiled, snatched it back at once, raced to Peggy. 

Peggy flipped through the pages. She'd seen the program before. The play's poster on the outside, Angie's headshot and bio on the inside. They often did larger spreads in the center and Peggy thought maybe Angie was featured. She leafed through it and saw nothing that would have warranted such excitement. Gracie stood on her tiptoes to see and before Peggy could ask was turning pages for her. 

“Just look at this,” said Grace.

She pointed to Angie’s photo and description among the rest of the cast. It was the usual headshot. Peggy loved it, but she had seen it before. 

“Read it,” said Grace sternly. 

Peggy started to skim. The bio was often the same too. There was no reason to keep rewriting it when a few tweaks would make it fit for a new project. She hadn’t thought to look closer. In fact, it was exactly the same as Angie’s last show until the last line. 

_‘Angie happily lives in her native New York with her wife and daughter.’_

Peggy’s mind went blank. Wife? What did it mean by wife? 

“Mama has something she wants to ask,” Grace said with a giggle. 

Angie was a few paces away. Without a word, Peggy let the Playbill slip into Gracie’s hands. She moved around her daughter without really seeing her. She only had eyes for one person. Her heart was already racing. She was filled with hope. She had realized how much she wanted to be asked exactly what she thought Angie was about to ask. 

They weren’t married. They could be and Peggy, at least, planned on being with Angie for the rest of their lives. But they had never talked about marriage. Never once. There wasn’t even a reason—not one Peggy could articulate at any rate. Girlfriend seemed too childish and partner often too formal and it tended to be confusing in Peggy’s line of work; still, Peggy had considered nothing else. Her life was good, so why question it? And she realized how foolish she had been. 

“You always say to keep your secrets to yourself,” Angie said. “I had to tell someone. The new printing came today and I’ve been waiting for weeks. This isn’t how I wanted it to go. I was going to take you out. Get dressed up. Champagne. All of it.” Angie stomped her foot. “This isn’t how I wanted to do it!” 

Peggy didn’t care. She wanted Angie and nothing more. She wanted this family—her family—to just be together. 

Angie was within her reach and Peggy pulled her in. She spoke softly. “None of that matters. We’ve been a family since the day you decided to stay.” She tried to fill her voice with passion, with everything they had been through together. 

Those rocky first days when Peggy had been so overwhelmed with motherhood she had almost regretted asking Angie to move in like she shouldn’t have added another life altering decision on top of everything else. To them finding a rhythm and so much love. To Angie’s first real Broadway show. To Peggy’s rising through the ranks. To watching Gracie grow. 

“Will you marry me?” Angie said. 

They were already a family in all the ways that counted. Angie asked a question with an obvious answer. She was asking without reservation and with an answer firmly known. Peggy’s eyes filled with tears. Similar happy tears were welling in Angie’s eyes too. 

However, Peggy didn’t answer right away. She wasn’t alone in this. There was one other person who had a stake in the answer. 

She turned to her daughter without letting Angie go. Gracie was waiting on the tips of her toes and her fists pressed against her mouth to keep her from making a sound. Peggy motioned her closer and lifted Grace up to bring her into the embrace. 

“What do you think, Peanut? Should I say yes?” Peggy asked. This question also had an obvious answer. In no universe did Gracie say no. She wanted her mothers to be together. Forever and ever. But her opinion mattered to Peggy. 

“Say yes! Say yes!” Gracie sang. 

Peggy was smiling so broadly her face hurt. “Then, yes. Of course, I’ll marry you. A thousand times yes,” she said. 

Grace let out a shriek of joy. She threw her arms around both her mothers’ necks. She wriggled out of their arms and began dancing around the room and singing a nonsensical song about a wedding. 

Without Grace between them, Angie was able to pull Peggy into a passionate kiss. For a few seconds, nothing else matter to Peggy except for the taste of her partner—her fiancée. 

“I love you,” said Peggy when they separated. 

“I love you too.” 

She pulled Angie close again. Peggy wanted to carry her off right now. As usual, their daughter interrupted. She groaned loudly when she caught sight of them. They broke apart. 

“I have something else,” Angie said and let go to head for the stairs. 

Gracie darted to Peggy and plucked at her sleeve. Peggy bent down to her level. 

“Is everything going to change?” she asked. 

“I would think very little,” Peggy said. 

Though, she was thinking it would be a good time to legally make Grace Angie’s daughter. Peggy didn’t want to change Gracie’s birth certificate or her last name, but if anything happened to her she needed to make sure Gracie stayed with Angie. Marriage, adoption, it would all just make their family official. 

Gracie looked a little relieved. She leaned in closer. “Did I ruin Mama’s surprise?” she whispered right into Peggy’s ear. 

“I think all plans went out the window a long time ago,” Peggy said. 

Unbidden, from the back of her mind where he nearly always was, she saw Steve’s face. There had been a point where she had expected that maybe someday a proposal would have come from him. In another life, they raised Gracie together. In another life, he came home. 

Life had a funny way of not caring about anyone’s plans. She hoped he was happy for her. She had someone to love and who loved her back; someone who loved Steve’s child as if she was Angie’s own. Her heart had built a new home. It was hard to imagine she could rebuild with nothing but scorched wreckage, but she had. 

Angie came back with a little black box in her hand. Slowly, Peggy straightened. Angie opened it and took out the shining diamond ring as Peggy held out her hand. It was a simple ring with one central stone and three smaller diamonds inlaid on either side in the band. Not ostentatious, not large, but delicately crafted and stunning. Something—though Peggy loathed to think of it right now—she could wear to work. 

Angie slipped it onto her ring finger. 

“Perfect fit,” Peggy said, her voice a little choked. 

Angie kissed the ring. 

“Lemme see!” said Gracie and Peggy held out her hand. 

Gracie gasped and started her song and dance around the kitchen again. 

“I’m really glad you said yes. I can’t change the Playbill now,” said Angie. 

“You couldn’t have had any doubts.” 

“I did. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to marry anyone.” 

Peggy sighed. “Maybe not if you hadn’t asked, but it was an easy answer. I love you so much—you’re my family.” 

“Would you have married Steve?” she asked quietly with Gracie still singing in the background. 

Angie never shied away from the topic of Steve and always seemed to know when Peggy was thinking about him. 

“It doesn't matter now. It really doesn’t.” 

“Would you?” 

“We were in combat and every time we said goodbye it might’ve been the last and then it was. I don’t know. He was traditional, so I expect so. He would’ve wanted to with Grace on the way.” 

“I think he’s happy for you. For us.” 

“I think so too,” Peggy said with a smile. She had a sudden thought. “I have something for you too.” 

She hurried up to the third floor and crouched before the safe in her office. Behind the more sensitive work files and a few important personal papers was a jewelry box. She had a hard time focusing as she shifted things around because of the flashes of her new ring. 

The jewelry box contained the Carter family heirlooms. Nothing too extravagant, but the set she unearthed had belonged to her grandmother. She left the wedding band in its place and took the engagement ring with her. It was an unusual ring. A sapphire, not a diamond set in the middle of a complicated swirling band. Unique, like the woman who would wear it. 

Back downstairs, she found Angie had joined in Gracie’s dancing and somehow the song had become a waltz. Peggy waited until the spun closer to cut in. 

She stopped the dance to put the ring on Angie’s left. 

“It was my grandmother’s,” she explained. 

“Won’t you rather—“ Angie began as she stared in wonder. 

“No, I want you to have it,” Peggy said. 

Angie stared at it for a minute. “I love it.” 

“I love you,” Peggy said and pulled Angie in for another kiss as Gracie groaned again.


	9. One Year

**ONE YEAR**

The sun was shining and the soft breeze rustled the leaves in the tree under which Peggy was lounging. She was stretched out on a blanket in the shade and reading a novel. Not a report, an honest to God with a plot, silly characters, and a budding romance. Her head rested on Gracie’s backpack as she held the book above her. Gracie rested beside her in a similar position but using Peggy’s stomach as a pillow. Neither had moved expect to turn a page in a very long time. The eight-year-old usually bounced off the walls, but she sat still for a book. 

But it only lasted so long. 

Without warning, Gracie sat up. Peggy tried to stay put but watched her daughter through a pair of chunky red sunglasses. She waited for what she was sure was something along the lines of ‘I’m bored.’ 

Instead, Gracie said, “Mummy, do you hear that?” 

“Hear what?” Peggy answered lazily. 

“That noise.” 

The sounds of the park played around them. Slowly, over the babel of voices, kids playing, bike bells came another sound: a repetitive tiny cry. 

Peggy considered for a moment. “Sounds like a cat to me. Best leave it alone.”

“What if it’s hurt? We have to help it.” Grace got up. “I’m going to find it. It _sounds_ like it’s in trouble.” 

She looked more carefully at Gracie. “Don’t go far.” 

Gracie dashed off, but Peggy didn’t move. She was far too comfortable to worry about anything. The mews were far away and there was very little she could do now. She would concern herself if Gracie managed to find it. 

Not ten minutes later, Grace came racing back. She flopped back onto the blanket and Peggy sat up, this time, abandoning her book. Grace was out of breath. 

“It’s little, and it’s in a tree.” Grace pulled at her mother. “We have to help it. Mummy, we gotta.” 

She was right. Peggy couldn’t walk away from some poor kitten stuck up a tree, now could she? 

“Okay,” said Peggy. “Let see if we can help.” 

The tree they had been resting under was part of a line of trees ringing a playing field. The field with dotted with other blankets and people reclining on the grass. Grace dragged her to the corner where there was a little shed. The branches of the last tree dangled closely to the shed’s roof. It took a moment and Gracie’s point for Peggy to spot the poor thing. The little grey and white kitten was curled in the fork of two branches about ten feet up. Her best guess was it had been trying to get to or from the shed roof. 

“What do we do?” asked Grace. 

The little cries got a little more frantic as if the kitten knew they were there to help. Peggy circled the tree. The tree’s lower branches weren’t sturdy enough. There was no chance they would support Peggy to help her get to the next row. Besides, she was wearing a dress. 

Grace seemed to read her mind. “I can climb up,” she said. “There was rocking climbing at Becca’s birthday party. I was really good.” 

The way Peggy viewed the tree changed. She reassessed, looking for limps that only needed to support a fraction of the weight. The branches higher up would be no problem for even Peggy. It was only the lower ones that were too small. It was doable. 

She looked back at Grace. She was waiting on the tips of her toes for an answer. Well, there was no doubt she was Steve and Peggy’s biological child. Even if Peggy said no, Gracie wasn’t about to listen. 

“You’ll be up twice as tall as me.” Peggy held up a hand to her brow to illustrate. 

“I can do it.” 

“Straight up and straight back down. And be careful.” 

Gracie nodded. Peggy laced her fingers to make a step and Gracie bounded forward. Light as a feather and as if they had been practicing, Grace stepped on foothold Peggy had made and was hoisted up to a fat branch. With Peggy’s boost, she bypassed the first row altogether. 

Grace squealed, and the kitten scampered a little high. 

“Go slowly,” Peggy said. “For your sake and for the cat’s. You don’t want to scare it anymore.” 

“Okay!” 

“Everything alright?” 

“Yeah,” Grace called back as she reached up for the next branch. 

Peggy monitored the progress carefully. She approved every step and handhold. Grace was fearless. She never looked down, only up towards the little creature she was trying to save. 

“ _Look at her, Steve_ ,” Peggy thought. “ _Look how brave she is_.” 

Grace reached the kitten and Peggy heard her talking softly to it. “Come here, little friend. I’m going to get you down. I’m trying to help.” 

The kitten scooted farther away, just out of Gracie’s reach. It was still crying pitifully but seemed unwilling to be rescued. She edged along the branch and reached up just a little bit higher. 

“If I grab it, will I hurt it?” Grace yelled down. 

“Hold it by the scruff of the neck like the mama cat would,” said Peggy. 

Grace inched a little close, and the scene slowed down as Peggy watched. Grace was too far from the trunk. The bow bent. Her hand closed around the kitten’s little body and the branch snapped at the same moment. Peggy forgot how to breathe. Her heart hammering out of her chest. Her mind was filled with one word: No! 

It was too late. Grace fell with nothing but a little shriek. Down she went for a few feet and landed hard on the largest arm of the tree with a heavy thud. She caught herself with one arm while the other held the cat protectively against her chest. Smaller branches showered down on Peggy. All Grace’s bravado had fled, and she hugged the limb. 

“Mummy, help,” Gracie whimpered. 

Peggy took a single second to steady herself. She was not allowed to panic. She was always the calm one, cool under pressure, unflappable, unless it involved Grace. It was so different when it was her own child. Every bump and tear was echoed back and magnified by a thousand. Grace was terrified and Peggy felt it; she was scared too. She wasn’t allowed to let it show. 

She wasn’t allowed to be paralyzed with the thought she might lose her daughter. Not today, today might be a broken bone, but it was a reminder of how fragile life could be. Out there in the universe, there was the chance that something might happen. That she knew what that kind of pain was like. That she doubted she would survive it again. But she wasn’t allowed to think any of that. 

She leaned against the tree, holding herself up on the very tip of her toes as if it might make a difference. 

“My darling, I can’t,” Peggy said. “I’m right here. I’m right below you. But I can’t get to you.” 

The lowest branches were still too small and Grace was stuck a foot or two above Peggy’s reach. 

“Mummy please!” 

The desperation was breaking Peggy’s heart. “I’m right here. Are you alright? Are you hurt?” 

“I don’t think so.”

“Good. That’s good.” 

“What do I do?” Her voice shook. She wasn’t crying yet, but she was dangerously close. 

“Take a deep breath and climb down. If you fall again, I will catch you.” 

“I can’t.” 

“You can. First, you have to open your eyes. I’m right here. We will pick a path together.” 

“You’ll catch me?” asked Grace. 

“Always, my darling.” 

Grace took a deep, shaking breath and opened her eyes. 

“Good girl,” said Peggy. “Give me the cat and then you’ll have both arms.” 

Slowly, very slowly Gracie uncurled her arm. She reached down and Peggy reached up. The kitten who had probably had more than enough adventure for one day—Peggy too—dropped the short distance safely into Peggy’s grasp. Now, Peggy held the little bundle in her arms. 

“Your turn,” said Peggy. Her heart was still pounding. She needed both of Grace’s feet firmly back on the solid ground. “There’s a branch by your left foot. I think you can reach it.” 

Grace was within Peggy’s reach in just a few minutes; she didn’t have far to go. Peggy’s muscle tensed at the urge to pluck her off the tree. But there was more than one lesson to be learned: You are capable of getting yourself out of your own mess. Peggy would always, always try to be there to catch her daughter, but if she could do it on her own she had to let her. 

Left then right and Grace stood upon solid ground once more. Shaking, she looked up at Peggy and collapsed into her mother’s grasp. Peggy dropped to her knees in the dirt and hugged back tightly. Now, Gracie cried. Her face buried against Peggy’s shoulder. Peggy just held on and stroked her hair. 

Peggy tried to calm her own heart rate. Each thump rang with ‘ _could have been worse_ ,’ ‘ _could have been worse_ ,’ ‘ _could have been worse_.’ What would she have done? What would she have told Angie? She was shaking and only hoped Gracie couldn’t tell. 

“You were so brave, my darling,” said Peggy to distract herself. 

“Mummy, I was so scared,” Gracie answered without looked up. 

“But you did it anyway. That’s the very definition of brave. Let’s see if you’re alright.” 

She let go so she could get a better look. Grace was clearly alert, her eyes too focused to be concussed, nothing was broken. The only injury seemed to be a great scrape along her jaw and under her chin. She held up her hands to show they were raw as well. Peggy kissed each spot gently. 

Peggy allowed herself another sigh of relief. This was entirely avoidable. If anything had happened it would have been her fault. Grace got her reckless nature from both her biological parents and Peggy had only encouraged it. There had been a dozen other ways of rescuing the kitten beside hoisting Gracie up a tree. She was the parent; she was in charge. Of course, the child was going to want to climb the tree and it was the parent’s job to say no. Peggy had, if anything, encouraged it. 

It was rash, heedless, and impulsive. The day could have gone much, much worse. 

“I’m sorry, Gracie,” she said softly. “I shouldn’t have let you climb, and you were hurt because of it.” 

“I’m okay, Mum.” 

Peggy kept her thoughts to herself. “You are. You’re made of tough stuff, my love.” 

“Like Dad?” 

Peggy’s mouth fell open a little. “Yes, just like your father,” she said with a little sigh. “You know that was one thing that made him special well before they turned him into a superhero. He was so brave. The things he did were often very dangerous, but it was always to protect someone else.” She hugged Grace again. “You saved this little guy.” 

She offered the kitten to Grace. The little fluff ball had curled itself in the crook of the arm not holding Grace. 

Gracie took it gently, and it happily snuggled up against her chest. “Can I keep it?” Gracie asked. 

Peggy knew they would be coming home with the bugger the moment Gracie had laid eyes on it. As soon as Grace saved it, it was their cat. 

“We can’t exactly leave it here on its own, can we?” Peggy said and kissed Gracie on the forehead. “Let’s get you both home and cleaned up. Your mother is going to kill me.”


	10. Two weeks

**TWO WEEKS**

"Oh damn," said Peggy as she searched her pockets. 

"I heard that, Mum," said Grace. "You’re going to have to put money in the swear jar."

"We don’t have a swear jar and damn is not a curse word," Peggy said, still looking. 

"Can I say it then?" 

"No." 

"Mum!" 

Peggy gave up. "I forgot my phone. It had the grocery list on it." 

She looked down at Grace. They had already walked the numerous blocks to the large, organic store. It had been bitterly cold for the entire weekend and they had been going stir crazy. Angie had kicked them out so she could get some quiet to learn new lines. It was New York, and they didn’t have a car, so they had bundled up and hoofed it. It reminded Peggy of Russia. 

"Do we have to go back?" asked Grace. 

"Gracious, not until we have to." Peggy faked a shiver. "What do you want for dinner?" 

Grace’s smile got a little bigger. "Really? I can pick?" 

"I can’t remember what we need." That wasn’t strictly true, but this was more fun. 

"Pizza?" asked Grace. 

"Your choice! But let’s get the dough and make it ourselves." 

Grace was satisfied with that plan. They dashed around the market trying to decide on a variety of toppings. They picked up a few other things that Peggy remembered and knew they needed, paid, and then headed back into the cold. Peggy hoped they had given Angie enough time on her own. 

The walk back took even longer laden with the shopping and it was a relief when their front door came into view. The curtains swayed as they walked up the steps and Angie opened the door for them. 

"Was it too quiet without us?" asked Peggy as they entered the warmth of the house. She kissed Angie on the cheek as she passed, stepping over the cat who had come to investigate.

"You left your phone here," Angie said. 

Peggy deposited the bags on the kitchen counter. Angie followed behind her after taking the grocery bag from Gracie. 

"We know! Mum let me pick dinner ‘cause she couldn’t remember the list," Grace said excitedly. 

"Really, Peanut? That’s great," Angie said a little flatly. 

Peggy didn’t miss the distracted tone. "I forgot I left it charging upstairs. I should’ve put in a more obvious place. Did you worry?" 

"No, you’ve been getting calls," Angie said. 

"Work nonsense, I’m sure. I’m sorry if it was bothering you. We left to give you some quiet." 

"Not work," Angie said. "And Colonel Mr. Pushy didn’t seem to understand you didn’t have your phone on you. He called once and then his office another two times. I told them you’d call back as soon as you were home." 

"Colonel? What does the army want?" Peggy asked. 

Angie sighed in exasperation. "Above my pay grade." 

"Right. Sorry. I’ll just do the groceries and then—"

"No, go. Gracie and I will do this." 

Peggy swooped over and kissed Angie on the cheek again. "Thanks, love." 

"Go. Then, this house needs to be quiet!" 

Peggy got half way up the stairs and looked back. "What was Mr. Pushy’s actual name?" 

"Uh, Phillips," Angie said. 

All the lightheartedness of the afternoon evaporated. Colonel Phillips was trying to get in touch with her. Colonel Phillips her last commanding officer. Her commander when Steve had died. She was sure why the army was calling. There was only one reason. They never did find the plane. 

She took the rest of the stairs two at a time and when careening into the bedroom. Angie called after her, but Peggy couldn't wait a second longer. What would she say besides? She was sure, but it was only a guess. 

She closed the bedroom door and then took her mobile into the bathroom, closing that door too. She perched on the edge of the giant tub. She didn't need the number; there were several missed calls on her phone and she remembered the dial-in procedure. All these years couldn't erase that. 

She phoned the office and a chipper voice answered. 

"Agent Carter returning a call from Colonel Phillips," Peggy said. 

"Yes, he's expecting you. Identification please," said the woman. 

Peggy rattled off her old service number. All these years couldn’t erase that either. 

"One moment." 

The call went silent for a moment and then there was a ring but it sounded very far away. She wasn’t sure if that was the connection or her own mind. 

"Agent Carter!" Phillips’ voice boomed by way of a greeting. 

"Sir." It didn't matter how many years had passed, he was still her commanding officer. 

"I need to be able to get in touch, Carter. You need to be reachable." 

"It was an accident. It’s Sunday and I'm not under your command anymore." 

"You are now." 

Peggy didn't know what to say to that. It had been ten years, and she had left for a reason. "Sir?" 

"Temporary reassignment if you want in on this mission." 

"What mission is that?" She had already guessed; he didn't need to answer. 

"Bringing America’s golden boy home and I don't mean in a box."

The sentence didn’t make much sense; it didn’t process. Half of it was mildly decipherable: they had found him. They were bringing him home and she would be there to finish her mission. She owed him that much. The second half made no sense. The box was a coffin certainly, but how could he not be in a box? 

“I don’t understand,” she said honestly. 

“It’s Stark. He says it’s possible.” 

She utterly lost. “Says what is possible?” 

“That Captain Rogers is alive.”

If anyone one in the world had said those words, Peggy would have thought it was a joke. Not a very funny one, but a joke. Ten years. Ten whole years. No one could survive that long. Not even Captain America. He crashed. His plane went down into the ocean and they couldn’t find it. The plane had been lost for ten years. 

He was gone. She had said goodbye. She had gently covered that raw part of her heart with love for Angie and for Grace. It had healed as best it could despite that fact it still ached from time to time like any other wartime injury. She still loved that man, but she had lost him. All she had left lived in Grace. 

It had to be a joke. But Phillips didn’t have a sense of humor. 

“That cannot be,” she said.

“Stark is very convinced and has everyone running around like chickens without their heads. I’m not here to debate. You’re back in. Report to the airfield and they’ll get you on your way.” 

“Where, sir?” 

“The goddamn North Pole. Pack a jacket.” He hung up, leaving her with a thousand questions and her heart beating out of her chest. 

Her hands shook as she hit dialed another familiar number. Stark picked up after a few rings. 

“Carter,” he said. “So, you’ve heard about our Capsicle?” 

“Is it true? Howard, can’t be, can it?” 

“I told Phillips you needed to be here. I sort of told him I couldn’t do this without you, so play along. We’ll make up a better reason later.” 

“Stark!” 

“What?” 

“Steve can’t be alive.” 

“Not yet. He’s frozen. Literally on ice. The serum saved him. Every cell in his body is filled with the stuff. He’s a long way from okay, but I can get him there.” 

“Jesus Christ, Howard.” If she wasn’t already sitting down, she would have collapsed. Alive. Alive. Alive. Alive. If she was anyone other than Agent Carter, she might have collapsed. Alive. Alive. Alive. Alive. After all this time. She had never hoped. She had given up years ago. Full years ago. Steve Rogers had died. Her child had never known her father. 

“I know, Peg. We’re bringing him home. You get him back. Your daughter gets her dad back.” Howard’s appearances in Gracie’s life were far and few, but she loved her crazy Uncle Howie and the feeling was mutual. 

“I don’t believe it.” 

“Then, get up here and I’ll show you.” 

“Okay,” she said lamely. 

“See you soon.” 

She made some sort of goodbye noise but was already hanging up the phone with her mind somewhere else. 

She had to organize her thoughts. She didn’t know what she was feeling. Disbelief was the only thing she recognized. There was joy, elation, but it compounded by guilt. She hadn’t waited. It was irrational. She knew she couldn’t have; who could have guessed that even Captain America could have survived ten years? But it didn’t change the fact that ten years had passed. The world had changed in every way. They had a daughter. She had a wife. They had had expectations about how their lives would have gone. They never exactly voiced them, but would have been together. He could never have that now and wondering what if on the odd occasion didn’t mean she wanted it anymore. 

Things had become complicated. 

She shook her head. None of that matter. It would all come later. He was alive! She had him back. Her best friend, Grace’s father. He was coming home. Who cared about the rest? It might be hard, but it would fall into place. 

She leaped into action. Her go-bag was ready. She added a few things extra things for the cold climate and hurried back downstairs. 

Angie knew at once either because of the bag or because of the look on Peggy’s face. “Where are you going?” she asked. 

Peggy couldn’t answer. She hugged Angie tightly and didn’t let go. 

“Hey,” Angie said gently. “What’s the matter?” 

“I can’t say. Not yet. I love you, okay? You know that right?” 

Angie pulled away. “It’s dangerous.” 

“No, it’s not that. I really can’t say. But I think a lot is about to change and I think you will get caught in the middle of it.” 

“Peggy, don’t leave me like this. I’ll worry my head off.” 

She kissed Angie. Put both her hands against Angie’s cheeks and held on. Angie’s hands reflexively moved to Peggy’s hips. It was just seconds; the seconds before everything changed. 

Peggy let go. “I have to leave.” 

“Hug your child. Call when you can.” 

“As soon as I can. I promise.” 

“You better. And come home safe.” 

Peggy stepped out of Angie’s grasp and went to Gracie. She lifted her up in a similarly tight hug. At nine years old, she was nearly too big to lift. 

“No pizza?” Gracie asked, trying unsuccessfully to hide her disappointment. 

“Not for me. You and Mama can still make it. Make me jealous when I call and all I’ve had is awful military rations.” 

“For how long?” 

“I’m not sure, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. I love you so much. So very much.” 

“I love you, too.” 

She put Grace down and left with only a few more words of goodbye. The guilt pulled at her from both sides as she closed the door behind her.


	11. Present Day (continued)

**PRESENT DAY**

_“The girl is Grace Rogers. She usually goes by Gracie or Peanut. She’s my daughter—our daughter...There’s something else. The other woman is Angie. She’s my wife.”_

At Peggy’s words, Steve dropped the photo, and it slipped across the table towards her. It was from Gracie’s last birthday. She was sandwiched between her mothers with her arms around their shoulders. Peggy and Angie each held one end of a cake with HAPPY NINTH BIRTHDAY scrawled across it in bright blue icing. Gracie was smiling broadly, Steve’s smile. The resemblance was strong, but he had stopped looking at that. 

The hospital’s sunny day room had turned icy. She held her breath waiting for his reaction. 

“You’re married?” Steve said. 

“Yes.” 

“To a woman.” 

“Yes.” 

“Actually married? That happens now?” 

“Yes.” Pause. “Is that a problem?” 

“No—I just didn’t know you were...what was I to you if you’re not—”

“I’m bisexual.” Pause. “Is that a problem?” 

“No—of course not. I just didn’t know.” 

“I don’t know if we knew much about each other,” she said with a sad smile. “We did love each, though, didn’t we?” 

“Oh Jesus,” he said and pushed away from the table. “I can’t do this.” 

She stared down at her hand clasped in her lap and let him go. She didn’t think she had ever misjudged someone so badly. She had never hidden who she was. It wasn’t her fault their former lovers had never come up. What did it matter? Why did he care? He was focusing on the wrong thing. He needed to know about Angie, but she wouldn’t let it affect Gracie. Gracie deserved to know her father. She would not let Steve run away from their daughter. 

She wouldn’t stand for it. She jumped up and followed him. He had already made it back to the hall. 

“Just wait one minute,” she called after him. “This isn’t about me and you. It’s about your daughter. You have no right to judge me.” 

He stopped short, and she almost crashed into him. He spun to face her. “I don’t care who you married, Carter. Man, woman, it doesn’t matter. I care you married someone else. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. It’s in the past for you. I still feel,” he clutched his chest, “everything. To me, it’s only been a few days. Last time I saw you, you kissed me goodbye, and we were still in love. And now you are not mine.”

He kissed her. He slipped a hand behind her neck and drew her in. It was rough and weighty and not like anything she remembered. His kisses were tender, passionate but gentle, like asking permission. It was his firm but considerate touch that brought her back and how they had made their daughter. This felt like hunger and, to her, betrayal. 

She shoved against his broad chest with all her strength. He was forced backward, stumbling a little. She wiped her lips. He looked shocked at his own behavior—as he should be. 

“I have never belonged to anyone,” she said with venom. 

“That’s not—I didn’t mean—I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“I’m sure this is confusing, but don’t ever kiss me like that again,” she said. “Don’t you ever touch me like that again. If you are going to be aggressive, I don’t want you anywhere near Grace.” 

“Now, you don’t get that right. I’ve already missed too much.” He pointed a warning finger towards her. 

“I’m glad you are thinking about her. Focus on that and get a hold of yourself. I can’t imagine how impossible this situation must be. But, Steve, you died. You were gone. What did you expect me to do? Death is usually a full stop. I had our daughter, and she gave me no choice but to think about the future. I had to look forward. I love you—I always will. I’m here for anything you need. But, it can’t be the way it was. Everything has changed. I’m sorry for that, but no one could have stopped it.” 

He leaned against the wall, utterly defeated. “I’m sorry,” he said. 

She moved closer to touch his arm. “You don’t have to apologize for the way you are feeling, but I’ll accept it for how you grabbed me. You can’t do that.” 

“You used to like it.” 

“I did,” she admitted. She was unopposed to her partner taking control. “That’s how I ended up with Gracie.” 

“Really?” 

“Well, how do you think it happened, Steve? It wasn’t from training exercise.” 

“Fair point.” He paused. “Grace, right?” 

“Grace Sarah Rogers.” 

“After my mom?” 

Peggy nodded and gave him another small smile. “She’s the greatest kid. She’s—”

“Is she normal?” he asked. 

Peggy was startled by the question and it must have shown. 

He talked quickly. “I was a sick kid. Born so early no one thought I’d live. I was in and out of the hospital all the time. Most of the time, I was too fragile to really play with the other kids and I was bullied when I was. You know how small I used to be. Bucky was pretty much my only friend. Then the serum. Stark says it saved me because I’m filled with it. Every cell. Did I pass any of that on? Is she healthy?” 

“Oh,” Peggy said softly. The grip on his arm tightened. He covered her hand with his own, hanging on like she was a lifeboat. He was a stranger in a strange time and she was his only comfort. “She’s healthy, normal, and extraordinary.” 

“Good, good.” He didn’t sound like he was paying attention. “Can I have a few minutes?” 

“Of course, darling.” 

He wandered away, and she wondered if he was okay to be on his own. He didn’t seem to know where he was going. But, he’d asked for space and she gave it to him. 

He stopped, looking back. “Is she nice?” he asked abruptly. “Your wife, I mean.” It sounded as if he were having trouble forming the words. 

“Of course.” She tried not to smile at the naïve question. 

“She treats you right? And Grace?” 

“We are very much loved and cared for. We’ve done alright for ourselves. Angie is a big part of why.” 

He looked at the floor. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to do it on your own. I should’ve been there.” 

“We managed.” 

He looked as if he had a thousand things to say and no words. Over the years, she had thought of thousands of things she wanted to say to him. There had been a thousand things she had wanted to hear. And none of it mattered now he was standing in front of her. 

“Take a lap, soldier,” Peggy ordered gently, giving him permission to take the time he had asked for. 

He nodded and continued down the hall, still looking lost. Her heart broke for him, but she knew there was little she could do. He wanted ten years back and she couldn’t give him that. He wanted the family he had only just found out about and she couldn’t give him that either. Not in the way he wanted at least. 

Not for the first time, Peggy longed for her family. She wanted to talk to her wife. She wanted to hear Angie’s voice. Process this event that had changed their lives. Neither Angie or Grace knew it had happened and Peggy couldn’t tell them. 

The unit was on communication lockdown. There were a lot of implications in Steve’s return and where he had been found. It was a delicate situation and no one, from the top down, knew what to do with him. She could only use her work email so it could be monitored. She had messaged Angie and Gracie every night and devoured their responses, but she hadn’t said where she was or what she was doing. Only that she wasn’t in any danger and couldn’t come home yet. She didn’t have access to a working mobile phone and the soldiers on guard were the only ones with satellite phones. But there were ways of getting one of those. 

Even if she called Angie, she didn’t have to give any details. The sound of her wife’s voice would be enough for now. 

Decision made, she headed for the cafeteria where she brought a very large brownie. Back on Steve’s floor, she went to the nurses’ station. Behind the desk, a large officer named Bradley reclined in a chair flipping through a gossip magazine that couldn't be his. The words on the cover weren't in English. 

She leaned on the desk and dropped the brownie in front of him. His eyes flicked eagerly in the direction of the treat and he abandoned the magazine. 

“Hi,” said Peggy. 

“What do you want, Carter?” he said. 

She smiled. “Can't I bring something sweet to my favorite guard on duty?" 

He was smiling back and shaking his head. “What do you want?” he asked again. 

"SAT phone?" she asked hopefully. 

“Big ask."

"Big brownie." 

He laughed and pulled the brick-shaped phone off his belt. "Not calling Hydra, are you?" he said, pointing it at her but keeping it just out of her reach. 

"Just my wife.” She paused. “Though, she is head of the organization.” 

"Shit,” he said as he handed over the phone. “They should do better background checks on you agents.” 

She flashed him another smile before walking away with her prize. She had hardly turned around when she heard the crinkle of the plastic wrapper around the brownie. 

She went up the stairs that led to the roof and sat on the very top step. It was cold with only a door separating her from the Arctic but she wasn't likely to be disturbed—or caught. 

She dialed Angie’s number. The thud of her own heartbeat in her ears was nearly as loud as the ringing. She was nervous again. These people were all her family; nothing about any of this should be making her nervous. 

“Hi, this is Angie Martinelli,” Angie said. She always answered the phone formally if she didn’t recognize the number. In her line of work, she could never tell if it might be an important caller. 

“It’s me,” Peggy said with an attempt to keep the emotion out of her voice. 

“Oh God, English! It’s so good to hear your voice.” 

Tears pricked in Peggy’s eyes. This about the longest she had even been away and certainly the longest she had gone without actually speaking to her family. 

“You too. It’s all I’ve wanted to hear for days.” 

“When are you coming home?” 

“I don’t know. We’ve had…success but things need to…stabilize.” 

“So you’ll be home soon?” Angie asked, the hope dripping from her voice. 

“I hope.” 

“We miss you.” 

“Darling, you don’t know the half of it. You both okay?”

“Of course. Status quo. It’s you I’m worried about. You keep saying you’re safe, but I don’t like not knowing.” 

“It’s not a regular mission. I’m completely out of harm’s way.” 

“Where are you? Why can’t you tell me anything?” Angie was used to a certain level of security clearance. Peggy told her a little more than she probably should or was really allowed. Angie wasn’t used to a completely shut out. 

“Because they monitoring all communications. I bribed a guard with chocolate for the phone.” 

“It sounds like a prison. Where are you?” Angie repeated. 

“The past,” Peggy answered with a bone-tired sigh. 

There was silence on the line. Peggy had said too much, implied too much and Angie knew her too well. Just as Peggy had guessed why Phillips had been calling, Angie had probably come to the same conclusions. Peggy had been foolish to think she could keep the secret. 

“Only...he’s alive,” Peggy said. “The past didn’t stay dead.” 

“You are not making any sense. Who are you talking about?” 

Angie had the answer; she didn’t want to admit it or maybe didn’t want to believe it. 

Peggy took another moment before answering. “Steve. He's alive.” She made a sound of frustration and everything she had been keeping to herself came tumbling out. “And it's so complicated! He makes everything so complicated. I find someone in the middle of a combat zone and he dies. What use is that? And he gets me pregnant! So I have to live with that too. I have the perfect life and he comes crashing back with the absolute nerve to be upset I didn't wait. I wasn’t the only one who thought he died and I still feel guilty. Damn him, Angie. I mean it.” 

“That's not possible.”

“’Not possible’ doesn't apply to that damn man. I was just talking with him. He’s alive and healthy, like the day of the crash.”

“This isn't a joke?”

“Of course not. The same stuff that changed him saved him. He's been frozen all this time. He woke up and hadn’t realized a single day had gone by. Swear to me you won’t tell anyone. Not a single word, especially not to Gracie,” Peggy said. 

“I promise. I wouldn't know what to say.”

“Me neither. To him. To you. To Grace.” She sighed again. “It’s like talking to a ghost.” 

Her voice caught at the last word. How often had she talked to his ghost? Not every day, but something close to it. He had been her guardian angel, their daughter’s great protector. He was here, and she didn’t know what to do. 

There was another long pause as Peggy tried to regain control. She was inches away from breaking down altogether and if she did that here she didn't think she could pull herself back together. 

“What does this mean?” Angie asked. 

“I’m not sure. I’m not sure about any of this.”

“Come home, Peggy. I've never asked for that before. Never once in almost ten years. I've worried and made you promise to come home safe, but I've never told you what to do. I'm telling you now. You need to come home.”

“Ang, I can't leave him here. I'm all he has.” 

“They have no right to ask you to be everything to him. I know you want to, but this feels like they are making you.”

“It’s not like that. I do want to be able to help him. He has to know I have his back—that’s something that hasn’t changed.” 

“You military type,” Angie grumbled. “But In the meantime, he’s keeping you far away from your family. Come home.” 

“Yes, I think it's time. He knows everything now. I was a little scared to tell him, but it’s all out in the open now.” 

“We are not some secret,” Angie said shortly. 

“Of course not. That’s not was I meant. I knew it would make it all too real. It’s the sure sign that life continued without him. He was a bit upset, as I knew he would be. Especially because of you. 

“What about me? If he said anything about you being with a woman, I’ll—”

“No, nothing like that.” Peggy didn’t mention that was exactly what she had thought too. “He wanted to marry me.” 

Angie bristled. “I'm sure he did. But he died, didn't he? You had to move on. Did he have anything say about being a father?” 

“Not particularly,” Peggy said with yet another sigh. “I think he’s processing. He believes what he’s being told, but I supposed it is hard to accept. I can't even imagine.” 

“It must be very hard.” 

Peggy didn’t miss Angie’s tone. Anger or maybe something else? Jealousy? 

“I think it’s time to bring him home. He can meet Grace and adjust to the everything. None of that can happen here.” Another sigh. “Is Gracie around?” 

“She’s asleep—it’s late here.” 

Peggy didn’t think her tired heart could take much more. She sniffed. “That’s fine. I’ll try again tomorrow. I’ve completely lost track of time.” 

“Oh stop it. I don’t know how you ever made it as a spy. You are the worst liar in the world. Let me wake her up. She’ll be gutted if she misses you.” 

Peggy didn’t even tried to argue or think about how hard it would be for Angie to get Grace up for school the next day. “Thank you. I’m missing you both terribly.” 

“Don’t thank me, just come home.” 

“I will. As soon as I can.” 

“I love you, Peggy.” 

“I love you, too.” 

There was a scuffling noise on the other end of the phone. “Peanut, someone wants to talk to you,” said Angie distantly. 

There was a pause and then Gracie’s sleep-filled voice said, “Hello?” 

“It’s Mum.” 

“Mummy!” cried Gracie, sounding much more awake. 

“Hello, darling. I don’t have a lot of time, but I wanted to say hi.” 

“When are you coming home?” 

Guilt continued to pull at her. 

“Soon, sweetheart. As soon as I can,” said Peggy. 

Their conversation was short; there wasn’t much to talk about and Grace was half asleep. There was a few rounds of goodbyes and I love yous and then the same with Angie and at last Peggy hung up. 

Peggy felt empty and full to bursting at the same time. Everything going on in her head was a contradiction. Everything conflicted. 

If she hadn’t been so cold, she would have stayed where she was hidden away with just her thoughts for company. But her teeth were starting to chatter, so she descended to the lower level. She ought to return the SAT phone to Bradley anyway. 

“Talk to who needed to?” he asked. 

She nodded. “I just need to hear their voices. Who’s waiting for you?” 

“Just a girl.” 

“Is it serious?” she said, teasing. 

“I intend to marry her, so yeah.” 

“My advice is don’t wait. You never know what will happen,” she said. As she spoke, she glanced down the hall to see Steve walking towards her. 

“I’ll keep it in mind,” said Bradley. 

“There you are,” Steve said as she approached him. “I’ve been looking for you.” 

“Sorry, I was calling home. We’re not really supposed to so I was staying out of sight. Did you need something?” she said. 

“Yeah, I, um, do you have more pictures? Of Grace, I mean.” 

“Darling, hundreds. Phones make for great cameras now. I have them with me. Though, there are too many of her cat.” 

“There’s a cat?” 

“She rescued him out of a tree.” 

“Sounds like...my kid.” 

“She really is.” 

He held out the printed photo from Gracie’s birthday. He had to go back to the sunroom to get it. She had left it behind. 

“Do you think she looks like me?” he said. 

“My coloring and your features,” she said. “I've thought that for years.”

They moved back to Steve’s room as they talked and settled stiffly on the bed, sitting next to each other but not touching. 

She passed over her phone to let him flip through the photos. Grace, Angie, friends, Christmas with Angie’s family just a few weeks ago, dressing room selfies, wifi passwords, travel photos, funny bar signs, dozens of pictures of the cat under Gracie’s photo direction. It was unfiltered snapshots of her life. Normally, she would be nervous given anyone such access, but as always, things were different with Steve. He had missed so much and it might help him get up to speed on this one small topic. 

“Oh that one is a video,” she said as he scrolled through. 

He looked confused. 

“Press it,” she instructed. 

He did as she said and it began to play. 

Peggy and Gracie were cuddled in the leather armchair in their living room. Gracie draped horizontally across Peggy’s lap and the chair’s arms. She was holding the camera out in front of them and Peggy was smiling and holding still. Gracie was giggling. 

“Did you take it?” Peggy asked. 

Gracie laughed a little louder. 

“Are you going to take?" 

Gracie covered her mouth to keep her laughter in. 

“Are you taking a video?” 

Gracie burst out, entirely unable to answer. 

“You scamp!” Peggy said. 

The camera shook wildly as she squeezed Gracie's sides tickling her. She tried to squirm away, but Peggy pulled her back. She planted a big kiss on Gracie’s cheek, leaving behind a perfect, red lipstick imprint. 

“Mum!" groaned Gracie and the video ended. 

He looked up at her with pain written all over his face. The ache in Peggy’s chest grew a little stronger. She missed her kid and she had only been gone a couple of weeks. Steve had missed it all. He longed for something he hadn't known he had. 

“I like her laugh,” he said. 

“Me too.” 

“I would—I would like to meet her. I can't be away from her any longer. I won't. If I’ve lost you, at least I’ll know her.” 

She took his hand and he squeezed back tightly. 

“You haven't lost me,” Peggy said. “We are a family. Because of what we've been through and because of our daughter. It might not be exactly what you want or the way you imagined, but it is a family. Steve, are you ready to come home?” 

He nodded.


	12. One Month After

**ONE MONTH AFTER**

Peggy had been gone twenty-six days; she had been back in the city for eight. Thirty-four days since she got the call that changed everything and eighteen since Steve woke up. 

She hardly lived through a more tumultuous time. Not during her training days, not during the fighting, not when she left everything behind, not when she realized she would be a mother. She was used to chaos; this was madness. 

Coming home hadn't been easy. The process was as much of a fight as Peggy and Steve had faced during the war. Though, without the guns. She’d done it with a great deal of help from Stark and a great deal of pure bullheadedness. Still a secret, but back on American soil. It was a step. 

No one knew the plane had been found and definitely, no one knew Captain America had been found alive. It took the highest level of clearance to know anything. Angie was not supposed to know and Gracie was out of the question. 

It hadn't stopped both Peggy and Steve from asking incessantly. Every day for a week Peggy had gone into the office and asked if Steve’s daughter could know he was alive. Every day Steve asked if he could meet his child. Every day the answer was no, she was a security risk. Steve wasn't allowed outside the safe house and between the two things he was going mad. 

He was her focus even though they were back in the city. She was the only permitted link to the outside world. She brought him the news and tried to get him caught up. She was also spearheading the push to make the announcement, to let the world know he was alive. He was still in limbo until that happened. 

Even when she wasn’t with him, she was spending hours of go-between, of meetings, of convincing. She had even slept at the office a couple nights and had only come home to shower, change, and kiss her family. 

It wasn't until two days ago when the office had got wind of a conspiracy blog with information about the plane that Peggy lost her patience. She had tried to play by the rules; she had tried to follow the regulations. It was eating her up inside to keep the news from her daughter, but did try. No one would pay attention to one whack job on the Internet, but the story could gain traction. Her biggest fear was that Gracie might find out before she had the chance to tell her. She gobbled up any information about Captain America she could. Even at nine years old, she had told Peggy things Peggy didn't even know. Mainly pertaining to a comic book or some kind of entertainment, but the story would be one of the biggest of the year if not the decade. 

So to preempt, Peggy broke every protocol and told Grace the truth. 

“We talk a lot about your father," she had said, holding her child on her lap. Strangely unwilling to turn Grace’s life upside down the way Peggy’s had been. It was good news, but it changed everything. "But I haven’t done an adequate job of explaining what he is capable of. I have always told that he died and I truly believed it, but—this might be hard to hear—they never found him. The army still had him classified as missing in action. Do you understand? They never found a body. There was never any proof. His plane crashed—we knew that for certain. We looked and looked until no one thought he could still be alive. But, Grace, the thing is, he is. Your father is alive and he wants very much to meet you.” 

Despite getting her ass handed to her by the commander, no one could really fault Peggy. She hadn't told the media or a foreign agent; she had told one little girl about her father. No one really could argue that Grace Sarah Rogers deserved to know. So, instead of being arrested for treason—again—Peggy was marching towards the safe house with Gracie and Angie in tow. 

They entered the building and Peggy nodded to doorman behind the desk. He nodded back. He wasn't actually a doorman but a secret serviceman in a uniform. He recognized Peggy by now and, though he eyed Angie and Gracie, he must've known they were coming because he didn't try to stop them. 

Gracie was clinging to Peggy; she wasn't holding her hand but Peggy’s whole arm. She had barely let Peggy out of her sight since Peggy had told her about Steve. She was nervous on the verge of fear about meeting her father for the first time. 

Peggy untangled from Grace enough to press the up button on the elevator. She then knelt down in front of Grace. 

"We don't have to go," Peggy said. And she meant it. Steve would be disappointed, but her nine-year-old's feelings were even more delicate. 

"That's right, Peanut," Angie added, pointing her thumb towards the door. "We can just turn right around." 

Peggy wasn't sure if that wasn't wishful thinking on Angie's part. Everyone was too nervous about this to be excited. 

Gracie looked back and forth between her mothers and then at the shiny marble floor. "We came all this way," she said in little more than a whisper. 

Peggy kissed Gracie's forehead as she stood up again. "Brave girl." 

They rode the elevator up and exited onto the top floor. Safe house didn’t cover it. Safe palace would have been a better term for it. The apartment was ridiculous; it was really the only word for it. 

Steve’s gilded cage was across the street from Central Park. Three whole walls were nothing but windows overlooking the foliage and most of the bottom half of Manhattan. The fourth wall blocked a kitchen and the hallway to the bedrooms. Everything was shining, sleek, modern and bare. The furniture wasn’t very comfortable. It was the opposite of the home Steve would ever want. 

“Get a load of this place,” Angie whispered and Peggy gave her an ‘I-know-right?’ face in return. 

They stood just inside the door, waiting. Steve didn’t come to greet them. 

"Steve?" Peggy called. "We’re here." 

There was a crash from the kitchen area and a loud swear. Peggy transferred Gracie's grasp to Angie and went to help. 

She rounded the corner to find him crouching down to picked up the remains of a tray of cheese and crackers all over the shiny, black, marble floor. 

"You alright?" Peggy asked as she bent down to retrieve the tray. 

"God, I'm nervous. Keep bumping into things. They get me anything I want—should I call for something else?" 

“It’s fine. We didn’t come for hors d'oeuvre. Though, I’m sure it would have been nice,” she added before he thought he had done the wrong thing. 

"I don't know what I'm doing," he said and dumped his handful into the sink. He looked at her for the first time. "Hi." 

"Hello.”

“She’s here?” 

“Yes. With Angie.” 

“Oh.” 

“Everyone is a bit nervous.” He didn't look comforted by this fact. "Ready?" she asked. 

He nodded like he was gearing up for battle. Peggy tried not to smile. They were so much alike. 

She led the way back into the main room and Grace dashed to her. She wrapped her arms around her waist and buried her face against Peggy’s stomach, not ready to face her father yet. 

Peggy awkwardly turned, pivoting on one foot until she was facing Steve. 

"Gracie, my darling, can you say hello?" 

Steve knelt down so he would be at Gracie’s eye level when she decided she was ready. 

"Hi there," he said. 

At his deep tone, she peeked out just enough to see with one eye. 

"Hi," he said again. "I'm Steve." He stretched out a hand for her to shake. 

He had good instincts. Not asking for too much affection, making himself Grace-sized, not immediately asking for anything like Dad. Peggy nodded to him in encouragement. Gracie’s shyness wasn't an accurate reflection of how well he was doing.

Grace let her grip around Peggy drop and she turned to face him. Though, she was still leaning heavy on her mum, pressing against her as if trying to get as far away as possible. She reached out her hand too and shook his. His large palm swallowing hers. 

Peggy breathed out slowly, trying to keep her emotions from overwhelming her. In her wildest dreams, she never had thought she would be able to witness such a thing. Her child and her child’s father, together. 

“I’m Grace,” Grace said only little louder than a whisper. “I guess you knew already.” 

“And I think you probably already knew my name, too.” 

She nodded. “I’ve seen videos too.”

“I hear there’s a comic book.” 

She nodded again. 

“It’s very good to meet you. Your mom has told me a lot about you.” 

“Mum,” said Grace. “Not allowed to say mom.” 

“I should’ve known. I apologize.” He smiled and she smiled back, getting the joke. 

“She’s mum,” Gracie said. “And she’s Mama.” She pointed around Peggy to where Angie was standing a little separate from the others. 

Steve stood up so fast that Gracie recoiled like a turtle sticking its head back in its shell. 

“This is Angie,” Peggy slowly said, hoping her tone would remind him to relax. 

The two stared at each other for a moment, sizing the other up, picking a response. 

Angie broke first. She stepped forward with a smile and her hand outstretched. 

“Nice to meet you,” she said. “Peg told me what’ve been through. You’re looking better than I could imagine.” 

“You too,” he said, shaking her hand and letting go a little too fast. 

Angie frowned, and her eyes narrowed, looking him up and down again. 

He blushed and stared at the floor. “I mean it’s nice to meet you too. You look fine.” 

There was an uncomfortable pause. Peggy scrambled for something to fill the silence, but all she could think of was how she wished that had gone better. 

Gracie plucked at Peggy. “Can I ask him?” she said. 

“Go ahead,” said Peggy, grateful for another topic to discuss. 

Steve looked worried but swallowed. “What do you need?” 

Gracie bit her lip before speaking. “Do you have the shield?” 

“I do,” he said with a smile. 

“Can I see it?” 

They both looked at Peggy for permission. And the look was identical. Soon, they would use that look to gang up on her; she just knew it. They were all going to be fine. These little things were more powerful than she had ever imagined. The space in her heart that had been empty and raw for a decade was healing. 

“I don’t care,” she managed to say. 

“C’mon, it’s in the other room,” Steve said.

Grace willing followed as he led to a back bedroom. 

The moment they were out of sight, Peggy reached out, reached for Angie. Angie stepped forward and clasped Peggy’s hand with both of hers. Peggy immediately felt steadier. But not steady enough. She tried to take a deep breath, but it got caught in her throat with a little hiccup. 

“I know, English,” Angie said. “I know.” 

Peggy collapsed against her wife and let only a sob escaped her lips. Angie soothed her gently. 

“It’s…” Peggy struggled to find the words. “I never imagined. My heart is racing.” 

“I know,” said Angie again. 

Steve and Gracie were coming back and Peggy straightened, wiping her cheeks hurriedly. 

“Look!” called Gracie. She was holding the shield above her head. 

They all marveled at it while Peggy fought against another wave of memories. She’d been there for nearly every nick and chip of the paint. She’d even inflicted a few herself. So much of herself was wrapped up in that time. Those years, those sights and sounds and smells and feelings. She hadn’t realized it at the time, but they were as much a part of who she was as her hair color. 

She saw the shield and thought, “ _Hello, old friend_.”

It was good to see it back in the world in almost the same way it was good to have Steve back in the world. 

They all moved to the sitting area with the shield on the coffee table in front of them. Old memories made for good conversation between Peggy and Steve, but with the others it stalled. 

“Gracie, why don’t you show Steve what you brought?” Peggy suggested in another awkward pause. 

Gracie dug in her pocket and held out a USB drive to Steve. 

“What’s this?” he asked. 

“It’s a slide show. Mama makes good slide shows.“

“I edited the one from our wedding,” Angie added. “It’s Gracie growing up.” 

“Wow, thanks. I’d love to see it. I’m trying to get caught up on things I missed.” 

“Can we watch it now?” Gracie asked. 

“I’d really like that,” said Steve. “You can explain things to me. Your mom has been doing that with a lot of stuff and it’s been helpful.” 

Angie sighed heavily but her face was neutral when Peggy glanced at her. Sometimes it was hard being married to an actor. 

They set it up on a government-issued laptop. The first image was the sonogram, the one Peggy had shown Angie the day she found out she was pregnant. The images progress through the years, but Peggy had to do most of the explaining for a while. 

“Do you remember this?” she asked at each new picture. 

She pulled Gracie onto her lap so she could scoot closer to the laptop screen. Her leg accidentally brushed against Steve’s and she saw him look down. He shifted a little. 

She tried to ignore it. 

The photo was of Angie and Gracie at the beach. Gracie was a year old. Angie was holding both of Gracie’s chubby hands as she battled waves that barely reached beyond Angie’s ankles. Gracie didn’t look happy. In fact, she looked like she was screaming. 

Gracie shook her head and giggle at the look on her own face. 

“This was your first time at the beach,” Peggy said. “I don’t know if you can tell, but you hated it. Screamed bloody murder.” 

“What beach?” asked Steve. 

“The Rockaways,” Peggy said. 

“Huh, I used to got there as a kid.” 

“Me too,” said Angie.

“We still go! Every summer,” said Grace. 

“You’ll have to come next time,” Peggy said. 

“I’d like that,” he said and then added, “as long as Grace has stopped screaming about going in the ocean.” 

“I love to swim!” Gracie said. “I go under the waves too. Don’t I, Mum?” 

“You do.” 

“There’s an indoor pool here. You should bring your suits.” 

“Yeah!” 

“I am not a big swimmer.” Peggy had never liked to swim. She wasn’t a bad swimmer; she did know how to. She had just always happier on the beach or with just her feet in the water. She didn’t mention that the real aversion to water began because of nightmares about planes crashing into oceans. 

“Must get that from me,” Steve said. 

“From you?” Gracie asked. 

“Your DNA, your genes, you get some of who you are from both your parents,” said Steve. “So, your hair color matches your mom’s and maybe you like to swim because of me. I don’t know. It sounds silly, but it’s all about biology.” 

There was a little gasp from Angie and she out of her seat and hurtling towards the back of the apartment in a flash. 

“It is not all biology, Steve,” Peggy said sharply as she lifted Gracie off her lap and stood up. “Who do you think bloody taught her to swim?” 

“Oh damn—I didn’t mean—" he said. 

“Keep looking at the photos,” she said, trying to sound lighthearted. “Maybe skip ahead to when Grace remembers.” 

Gracie looked a little prettified, but Peggy wasn’t going far. She hurried to find Angie. 

The penthouse had five bedrooms and, of course, Steve was only using one. That door was politely half closed. She spied a neatly made bed with military corners and stacks of boxes from new clothes. The door across the hall was shut tightly. 

She knocked on the bedroom door. “Angie, it’s me."

No answer, but she heard another little gasp from the other side of the door. 

“Please.” 

Still no answer. She tried the doorknob; it was locked.

“I can pick the lock, but please don’t make me.” 

She heard footsteps and the locked clicked, but the door didn’t open. Peggy sighed, counted to three, and opened it. 

Angie was sitting on the bed with her back to the door. She didn’t look over, but Peggy heard the shaking breaths of crying. 

Steve’s shield rested on the mattress, scuffed and battle-worn, where Steve had put it to clear space for the laptop. 

“Let’s not drag this out,” said Angie loudly. “I know what’s going to happen. Why are we playing games?” 

Peggy closed the door behind her and moved closer. “Drag what out?” 

“I think what I just heard makes things pretty clear. The way I edited myself out of our life makes things pretty clear.” 

“Edited? What?” 

“The slide show. I spend a good deal of last night removing most of the pictures of me. Gone, like I never mattered. At your request.” 

“That wasn’t my intent,” Peggy said. She had asked for the slide show to be tailored to be about only Grace. There had to have been pictures of Peggy that had been removed too. 

Angie spun around. Her face was red, spotted, and miserable. “Do you really expect me to believe that? I know you’ve wanted him all this time. He has been a shadow I have had to compete with since I met you. But I thought, ‘Hey, he’s dead. I win by default.’ I couldn’t have been more wrong, could I? Freaking Captain America.”

With a violent shove, she sent the shield flying. It clattered to the marble floor and the sound echoed off the blank walls. 

“I should’ve known not to try,” Angie said. “Now you’re going to leave me to be with him. You get to stay the happy family—the one you’ve always wanted. I can’t compete anymore. But you can’t take Grace away—I have legal standing. You made it official. The law says she’s my daughter as much as yours. I’ll fight. You know I will.” 

Her words had a lot of fight in them, but the tone didn’t match. She sounded lost, heartbroken. She was in tears again before she finished speaking. 

The guilt suddenly threatened to drown Peggy. What had she done? Her life had felt unstable and she had done nothing to fix it. She was letting it go, letting it slip away. Past and present colliding and she was not handling well. She put her arms around Angie, to start her apology, but Angie shoved her off. 

“No!” Angie said. “You don’t get to pacify me. Tell me the truth: was I just convenient? Was I just the idiot that offered to help?” 

“My beautiful wife, listen to me. I need you to hear this. I am not leaving you and I would never ever take Grace away. We went through with all that tedious adoption paperwork when we got married to make sure, no matter what, she would still be with you. All I want is for us to be a family.” 

“We would never have been if he’d been here,” she choked through her tears. 

“Perhaps,” Peggy said gently. “But only because my life would have gone in a very different direction. I left the army when I did because I thought he had died. I took the job in New York because that’s when they were offering it. Who knows if our lives would have even crossed paths. Who knows if I would have ever come to America. But I know one thing.” 

“What?” said Angie. Her tears were slowing. 

Peggy put her arms around Angie’s shoulders and held her tightly. “A few what ifs don’t erase ten years with you. You are not a second choice. You were not a convenient choice. You were a lifeline I still hold to.” 

“Really?” Angie asked. She was leaning into Peggy’s embrace now. 

“Of course, darling. I love Steve. He is Grace’s father, so he is family. We had a very intense affair that was never able to become anything else and that leaves behind what ifs and almosts. I have, on occasion, wonder how things might have turned out differently. I have looked at Grace, especially when she is being particularly wonderful, and been sad because of what he was missing. I don’t deny it any of these things and I don’t think I’ve ever tried to keep them from you. But none of that means I wished for another life.” 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry I thought such terrible things. I’ve been so scared I was losing everything. You were gone for so long and you haven’t really come back. I’ve been jealous and angry and like I’m on the outside. This is a corner of your life I can’t be apart of. I have never been apart of. Grace gets to be and I’ve felt very alone.” 

Peggy wouldn’t deny to herself that she was a bit gutted that her wife could think she would be tossed aside, but it wasn’t her feelings that mattered right now. Rationally, Angie must know the way Peggy felt, but nothing about this entire situation was rational. 

“This is all my fault,” said Peggy. “I’ve been so distracted. I do feel like I’ve abandoned you. I have to be better at telling you what’s going on. I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted. I’m only fighting to get us to a new normal. Once he’s settled, this can just be commonplace.” 

“None of this normal.” 

“Certainly not,” said Peggy. “I knew you were going to get caught in the crosshairs of all this and I did nothing about it. I’m so sorry. I should have reminded you a thousand times a day I want to spend my life with you. That I am so proud of our life. That you are a wonderful mother. That I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

Peggy let go a little and rested her forehead on Angie’s shoulder. She closed her eyes for a brief, blissful moment. 

“I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I’m being pulled in a thousand directions. I can see where I want us to be, but I can’t figure out how to get there.” 

“What do you want?” 

“Steve gets an apartment close to the house. Grace shuffles between here and there as she pleases and gets more love and support than any girl could ask for. He comes over for dinner whenever he likes. You and I get the odd night to ourselves. He and I go back to work together. He did so much good last time and he can do it again.” She sat up again. “You will like him, Ang. I know it.” 

Angie didn’t say anything to that. Her belief that she was losing her family to Captain America was likely too fresh. Peggy didn’t blame her. 

“I’m going home,” Angie said though she didn’t move. She wasn’t ready but Peggy was probably not the only one thinking about Steve and Grace alone in the living room. 

“Please don’t feel the need,” Peggy said. “But I understand if you want to. Maybe we should all go.” 

“I should’nt’ve come today. Today should’ve been about Gracie.” 

“We both wanted you here.” 

“Yeah, I know. But now I want to go home and Grace won’t be ready to leave.” 

“There’s always tomorrow. We have nothing but time now.” 

Right on cue, Gracie opened the door a crack. They both jumped and Angie scrambled to make it look less like she’d been crying. 

“I didn’t knock,” Grace said, realizing her mistake at once. 

“It’s alright,” said Peggy. “Come give Mama a hug—she needs one.” 

Gracie leaped forward and threw herself into Angie’s arms. The kid gave good hugs. 

“You okay, Mama?” she asked. 

Angie squeezed back tightly. “Am now.” 

“Did you need something?” Peggy asked. 

“The slide show is done,” Gracie said, still pressed against her mama. 

“I think it’s time to head out,” said Peggy. 

“Okay,” said Gracie without argument. 

It had been a crazy few hours for all other them. Goodbyes said, Angie and Grace went downstairs to hail a cab. 

Steve grabbed Peggy’s elbow. 

“Did I do alright?” he asked. 

Peggy shook her head and smiled. He was such an idiot. “You did well with your daughter. Her mother, not so well.” 

"Her mother? What'd I do to you?"

Peggy sighed wearily. "Angie is also her mother, Steve. In love and by adoption. This all gets easier when you accept that."

"Gotcha." He rubbed the back of his neck. “Is she okay?” 

“Yes,” she answered simply, not wanting to go into their business. 

“I could hear you.” 

“Damn you, Rogers.” 

“I wasn’t trying!” 

“Of course not.” She rolled her eyes. “Yes, she’s fine. She’s scared. You’ve come back into my life, but she didn’t sign up for any of this.” 

He sighed. “I don’t mean to come between you. I don’t want to be some homewrecker.” 

Peggy snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself. If you were listening in, you know how I feel. I love you—I really do—but I’m not falling back into your arms. I love my wife. I won’t break my promises.” 

Steve looked at the floor again. It was clear what she hadn’t said. ‘ _I won’t break my promises…like you did_.’ 

He had made a date and he had been late. Very late. She wasn’t angry with him; she hoped he knew that too. She hadn’t said it out loud, but the implication was bad enough. It had been his choices that let them here after all, not hers. He had done the only thing he could think of in that moment ten years ago and she was only doing what she could now. 

“We’re all adjusting,” Peggy said. “It will get better with time.”


	13. One Month and One Week

**ONE MONTH AND ONE WEEK AFTER**

The wretched buzzing of the phone dragged them both from sleep.

"Peggy."

Maybe if Peggy ignored it, it would go away.

"Peggy," said Angie a little clearer. "Make it stop."

Peggy groaned and reached for the nightstand. She felt around for the mobile with one hand and rubbed her eyes with the other. It would be work; it was always work. When she looked at the name shining brightly on the display, it read 'Steve Rogers' and her stomach turned over.

Gracie was spending the night with him at the safe house. Something was wrong. It was almost one in the morning. Gracie wasn't calling to say good night.

She turned on a light and snatched up the phone, fully awake and ready for action. "Steve, what's the matter?" she said.

Behind her, Angie rolled over at the sound of the rising panic.

"What?" said Steve.

"Is there something wrong? Is Grace okay?"

"Oh, of course."

"Jesus, Rogers. Then why the hell are you calling this late? Scared me half to death."

"Is she okay?" asked Angie in the background.

Peggy nodded at her.

"Sorry!" said Steve. "It didn't mean to—she wants to come home."

"Then, everything is not okay?"

"She says she has a stomach ache." He sounded like he was blushing. "But I think she's homesick." His voice dropped to a whisper.

Peggy actually relaxed this time. She wasn't too surprised. She and Angie had gone over for dinner with Gracie. They had ordered pizza and then Gracie as good as pushed them out the door.

"She's bluffing," Angie had said in the elevator ride down.

Peggy had agreed; Gracie's energy levels had been manic the entire evening.

"Too much pizza more likely," Peggy said to Steve. "Let me talk to her."

"She okay?" asked Angie again. She had propped herself up on an elbow.

"Yes," Peggy said. "Wants to come home."

"Knew it," she said as she flopped back onto her pillow.

On the other end of the line, she heard Steve say, "It's your mom."

"Mama?" asked Gracie, sounding miserable.

"It's Mum, darling. You're not feeling well?"

"Mummy, can I come home?" Her voice shook.

All Peggy wanted to do was gather her daughter up in her arms. She didn't like being so far away. When she left on missions, Angie was always there to give her what she needed. Right now, Gracie didn't have that. Steve wasn't a comfort yet; he would have obliged had Gracie asked for a hug, but Gracie probably didn't know how to ask. And she was probably feeling guilty for not wanting her father the way she knew other kids did.

"It's very late, Peanut. What if I stayed on the phone with you until you fall asleep?"

"I wanna come home."

Peggy couldn't stand it. She wasn't very good at being the tough parent. She was the one who snuck Gracie sweets, read her one more chapter, let Gracie sleep in her bed. Not that Peggy couldn't say no. If there was some lesson to be learned, Peggy might have been more forceful. She might have worked harder to find a solution that didn't involve her leaving her bed in the middle of the night. There was nothing to be gained here except to make Gracie hesitant to try again. To try staying with Steve on her own and to call next time something was more seriously wrong. This wasn't a moment to make Gracie strong.

"Okay, love," Peggy said. "I'll be there in half an hour."

Gracie let out a small sigh of relief.

"Put Steve back on." Peggy sat up again.

"You coming?" he asked after a moment.

"Yes, I'll there as soon as I can. Sorry about all this."

"No, no, I feel bad. We rushed it," he said, sounding just a miserable as his daughter.

"Maybe it's just a bad night. She's still a little girl. She acts so grown up most of the time, I find I forget that too."

"I don't have a frame of reference."

"Right." He'd only known his child a few weeks, and she knew he had little experience with children in general outside of excited fans. "Be there soon."

She hung up the phone as struggles out of bed and to her laundry basket. She tossed the phone to Angie. "Order a car, would you?"

"I hate this," said Angie, her face half hidden behind the phone as she worked the app.

Peggy pulled on a pair of jeans and a zip-up sweatshirt she usually only wore after a workout over the pretty, lacy things she was wearing. She and her wife had at least taken advantage of the empty house before falling asleep.

"What? Me going out in the middle of the night or that she stayed at Steve's?" Peggy said as she paused in the mirror to pull back her unruly hair.

"Yes," said Angie.

"Want to come? That solves the first concern."

"I do not."

Peggy rolled her eyes, unsurprised.

"I knew she wasn't ready," said Angie. "We just left her there."

"We didn't abandon her—she's with her father."

"Who doesn't know her."

"Give him a little credit. He knew she was homesick. He knew to call."

She muttered something, but all Peggy caught was 'any idiot.'

Peggy ignored it because she wasn't having this argument. Tension between Steve and Angie hadn't eased. They were perfectly polite, friendly even, especially in front of Gracie, but getting them to be in the same room was like pulling teeth. At least, this was Angie's problem. Steve still wasn't allowed out of the safe house.

Peggy moved back to the bed and leaned over, resting on her fists on the mattress and leaning over Angie.

"I love you," she said softly.

"I know. I love you too."

"I'm doing the best I can."

Angie sighed. "I know that too."

Peggy took her phone out of Angie's hand and left the bedroom.

She descended to the dark first floor, collecting keys, wallet, and her leather jacket as she went. She disturbed the cat so she scratched him under the chin for a moment, and then waited outside for the car.

It was a cold, windy night, and the neighborhood was quiet. Corners of New York City slept, even on a Friday night. She paced in front of the stoop and tried not to get impatient.

Once Steve was out of this gilded cage, he would need to find somewhere closer. Somewhere they could walk to. She hated this separation. She hated the thought that Gracie was waiting in that cold apartment and Angie was tucked up in bed. They weren't a family yet and didn't know what to do. Two factions. Two sides. She didn't know how to handle that if they weren't fighting. She was a soldier, not a diplomat.

The car service pulled up to save her from having to answer the question. The driver took her to Steve's building, and she asked him to wait as she went upstairs.

The secret service agent turned doorman didn't recognize her, and she had to go through the entire identification process with him as she gripped white knuckles on his desk.

"Sir," she said with as much measure as she could muster. "The list of approved visitor isn't very long, and it's my name _at the top_. If you run one more check, we are going to have an issue."

He swallowed nervously. She would be a wolf if she needed to be.

"It's just it's very late," he said.

She almost felt bad for the man. He was probably new or had drawn the short straw. Staying up all night was rarely a fun duty, but he probably didn't expect to have to actually do anything.

"Exactly my point," she said. "My child is not feeling well and I would like to take her home. You are getting in my way."

"Alright. Go up."

Peggy didn't bother with a thank you as she walked away from his post. She punched the lift's up button vigorously.

"That was fast," said Steve as she stepped out at last on the top floor.

His hair stuck up at the back and he was also wearing hastily pulled on workout clothes instead of pajamas. The moisture wicking fabric of his shirt clung to every muscle. She was reminded of the day he had stepped out of the pod a changed man.

"I would've been faster if the night watch wasn't an ass," she said to distract herself.

"I wouldn't know."

"Well, he's not very nice. Where is she?"

"Uh, she's asleep on the couch. About five minutes ago. I was about to call you."

Peggy closed her eyes for a moment, in part from relief and in part in frustration. "Of course, she is."

"She can stay," he said. "You can stay."

"No," she said but without force.

She moved passed him to the seating area. Grace was fast asleep on the hard leather couch, wrapped in a fancy throw blanket except for her bare feet.

She perched on the couch and tugged at one of Gracie's toes. Gracie opened her eyes.

Peggy opened her arms and her daughter as good as buried herself in the embrace. Peggy kissed Gracie on the forehead. No sign of a fever or any kind of sickness. She only wanted to come home.

"You came," said Gracie.

"I said I would."

"I know."

"Mama or I or Steve," she made sure to add to the list, "will always, always come. You call and we will come running. No matter why and no matter where. No matter how old you get. Isn't that right?" said Peggy and looked to Steve, who had followed her.

"I've never been one to argue with your mother," he said.

“That is a blatant lie," Peggy said.

"Okay, I just won't argue now."

"We mean it. Anytime you need us. You hear me?"

"Yes, Mum," Gracie said probably unaware of what she was agreeing to.

Gracie had rested her head on Peggy's shoulder, more than half asleep again.

"Come on, you have to walk. You're too big for me," Peggy said.

"Mum, please."

"I can't carry you, darling."

"Let me," said Steve. "Just to the car."

The man at the door would have something to say about it but she didn't think Gracie would even notice. She stood to make room, and he lifted Gracie off the sofa, slowly, giving her a chance to say no. It didn't come. Still tucked in the blanket, she curled against him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He lifted her easily and headed for the elevator.

Peggy just followed with a heavy weight in her chest. She wasn't only remembering things from the past but feeling the echoes of that might-have-been. In another life, Steve carried their daughter to her bed all the time.

"How did everything else go?" Peggy asked as the descended.

"Fine. I think. We talked a lot. Got me caught up on everything Captain America has been up to since I disappeared."

"She's something of an expert. Did she tell you about the character she thinks is me?"

"Agent Carson? Of course. I think she told me everything."

"You're her hero, you know that?"

"So are you," he said as the doors opened again. He didn't give her chance to respond.

They ignored the doorman as he sputtered that Steve needed to stay in the apartment and stepped out in the night.

The car was still waiting and Peggy opened the door. Steve reached in to settle Gracie.

"Sleep well, kiddo," he said quietly. 

"'Night, Dad," she said back. 

Steve straighten and the look he gave Peggy was wide-eyed terror. 

She laughed. "You ready, Dad?" 

"No, but yes at the same time." 

"I think that makes you a parent. It's scary, isn't it?"

"But amazing." 

"But amazing," Peggy repeated. "We'll try again soon. You did good tonight."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She leaned towards him and kissed him on the cheek, cupping the other side of his smooth face with a hand. "Good night."

"'Night."

Then, Peggy slipped into the car. As soon as she was seated, Gracie folded over so her head was on her lap.

She waved to Steve as the driver pulled away from the curb. The doorman was motioning passionately for Steve to come back inside.

"Party animal on your hands?" asked the driver.

Peggy shrugged as he glanced at her in the rearview mirror. He chuckled in a fatherly sort of way.

The car hit a pothole and bounced heavily. Gracie popped up.

"Are we home?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.

"Not quite yet."

Peggy eased Grace back down and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.

"Sorry I woke you up," Gracie said with her eyes closed again. "I hope Steve isn't mad at me."

"No, of course not."

"I missed you and Mama and I don't like that place."

"We missed you too. No, that apartment doesn't feel like a home, does it? Was everything else okay until it was time to sleep?"

Grace nodded. "We talked a lot. He asks lots of questions," she said with a yawn.

"About what? He said you talked about those comics."

"Yeah, but mostly about me. He wanted to hear about school and my friends and my cat and you and Mama." She sat up a little. "Does he always ask so many questions?"

"I think he's just trying to work everything out. He's missed a lot."

She hoped that was all it was. Peggy couldn't particularly remember Steve asking excessive questions and she wasn't too keen on the idea of him pumping Gracie for information. If it was anyone but him, she would've started looking for ulterior motives. 

"Yeah. Maybe." Gracie yawned again.

She drifted off again as the car took them home again.

Peggy ended up carried Gracie anyway. She was still wrapped in the blanket and her feet were still bare. They had just left all her things at Steve's.

Peggy carried Gracie straight into the master bedroom. The light was still on, but Angie was asleep. She stirred as they came in.

"No, no," said Angie forcefully even as moved out of the way. "She's too old. Peggy, don't you dare."

Ignoring Angie completely, she set Gracie down their bed. She was barely awake and only rolled over to hug a pillow before drifting off completely again.

"She's too big," Angie said. 

"She's not too big—she's our baby." 

"You're impossible, English," said Angie, but a small smile had crept onto her lips. 

"Just for tonight," Peggy said and tucked the covers over Gracie. 

"Just for tonight," Angie said. She was all talk.

Peggy stayed upright long enough to change into pajamas and then slipped under the covers too. She sighed deeply as she put her head back on her pillow.


	14. Two Months

"Is he here?" yelled Gracie. 

"No!" yelled Peggy. 

"Please stop yelling," came Angie's voice in the distance. 

Gracie's face appeared over the banister on the second floor. A shoe clutched in her hand. 

"Is he here?" she said at a lower volume. 

"I said no," Peggy said, looking up from the kitchen. "But he will be soon, so get moving." 

"What about now?" 

"Go! Your room needed tidying too. You should not have left this until the last minute." 

Gracie scampered. Peggy tapped her heel on the floor. The car would here any minute. 

Steve was alive again. Every news outlet in the world had been covering the story, but it was finally dying down. The world had gone nuts. There were been dozens of press releases and press conferences and memos and a thousand other things. He'd been so busy with it all, they hadn't seen much of him. He had set aside tonight for a special occasion. It was Gracie's half birthday and he was taking them out to celebrate. 

It would be his first outing that wasn't government sanctioned. He was allowed out of the safe house, but it took such planning and work he had only bothered so far when it was necessary. He was taking them somewhere nice, but she wasn't sure where. Somewhere nice like he was compensating for all the missed birthdays. 

Peggy checked her reflection in the glass of the microwave. Makeup done perfectly, hair in 40s-style curls. She adjusted the high waste on her red dress. He was making an effort tonight and so were they. 

Gracie reappeared and hopping down the steps, leaping from one to the next so her shoes clicked and her skirt bounced. Her outfit was new for the occasion. A little white blouse tucked into a blue skirt with white polka dots. The skirt had a petticoat underneath so it was perfect for bouncing and twirling. 

"Look at you," Peggy said. "You look beautiful, my love." 

Gracie smiled, looking a little sheepish. "You too, Mummy." She climbed up onto a stool at the island. "Where are we going again?"

Gracie had asked this question already. "I don't know," Peggy said. 

"Why not?" 

"It's for security, and I think your father wants to surprise you." 

"Security from what?" 

"The media mostly." 

"Why?" 

"You know the answer to all these questions." 

She sighed. "You don't want my face in the newspaper." 

Peggy took Gracie by the chin and turned her face so she could plant a kiss on her cheek. "Even though it's such a cute face." 

Gracie wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, cleaning away lipstick that Peggy usually left behind. 

"Like a secret identity, right?" said Peggy. 

"Mama likes it when she's in the papers, though." 

"Well, it's part of Mama's jobs and she's an adult." 

"So, when I'm older?" asked Gracie hopefully. 

"When you're older," Peggy repeated. 

"How much older?" 

"Thirty-six," said Peggy, picking a number at random. 

"Mum!" 

"Okay, thirty," Peggy said with a laugh. 

Angie looked over the railing. 

"Grace," she said. "This room is not ready for company." 

Gracie almost flinched. She looked at her mum for support. 

Peggy raised an eyebrow and shook her head. "Go." 

Gracie dashed off again, barreling passed Angie on the stairs. 

Angie was ready too except for the pair of silver shoes in her hands. Her dress was navy blue, simple except for delicate silver stitching along the hems. Her hair was pinned in victory rolls and her makeup was elegant. She and Peggy would be the perfect pair in their matching vintage flair. 

"My darling," Peggy said. "You look gorgeous." 

Angie smiled at the compliment. "You're not so bad yourself," she said. 

"You're going to turn every head." 

"I don't think anyone is going to notice anyone but Steve." She only barely concealed her eye roll. 

"Don't say it like that." 

Angie sat on one of the kitchen stools to put her shoes on. "Like what?"

"Just please be nice. He wants to do something special."

"I'm trying." 

"Could you try a little harder? Just for tonight, could you act like friends?" 

"You cannot expect me to be friends with your ex." 

Peggy sighed. They had had this conversation numerous times. "Just for tonight. He'll be here in a minute."

"Why is he coming here again?" She moved onto the second shoe. 

"He wants to see the house." 

"Why does he want to see it?" Angie said with a whiny edge in her voice. 

" _Why_ does it matter?" 

"Because it feels like he's judging. It's like he's checking up. He's barely used to being called dad and he's second guessing." 

Peggy heard Angie's unspoken words. Me. He's second guessing me. Second guessing his daughter's adoptive mother. The one major hurdle Steve seemed to struggle with was Gracie's two mothers. Mom referred to Peggy alone. It wasn’t as if he was trying to win Peggy back, but there was a block. Three parents. It didn’t compute. She reminded him every time he slipped but he still slipped. He was getting better, but it wasn't good enough. 

"He doesn't know what he's doing—he's in no place to judge," Peggy said. 

Peggy reached out to help Angie to her feet now that shoes were on and pulled her in. 

"I don't mean to be a pain," Angie said. 

"I know."

"Do you even want to go? All this just for dinner. We can stay home. You look tired."

"Thanks, darling." 

"Not in that way. You look amazing. I just know you're tired, but only I would notice." 

Peggy shrugged and tried to smile. The look that crossed Angie's face said it had been unconvincing. 

"Don't give me one of your sad smiles, Peggy. They don't work on me. I have become immune." Her words were also unconvincing. 

"Really?" Peggy said as she gave Angie a mischievous look. 

"That look won't work either."

Peggy leaned in for a kiss, knowing full well that look would work. The doorbell rang and they both sighed. 

"I'll go find her," said Angie, letting go. 

Peggy missed Angie's protective touch at once. 

Peggy went to the door. She opened it to find Steve standing on the front step. Her stomach flipped. He was back, out in the world. It was hard to imagine, hard to rectify in her mind. 

He was booted and suited in a fine charcoal suit. The tie was poorly done and crooked. He looked a little flustered, but, damn, he still looked good. 

"Hello, soldier," she said and reached up for a hug. "It is good to see out of that penthouse. Come on in." 

"I wanted to be here twenty minutes ago," he blurted. 

"We're running a little behind too. Don't worry about it," she said as she motioned him inside and led him into the kitchen.

He cleared his throat. "You look very nice," he said. 

She thought maybe he had been practicing that. 

"Thank you. You too," she said. 

"I did the tie in the car without a mirror. Can you tell?" 

"A bit." 

He adjusted it and it did no good. 

"So," he said. "This is your house. It's pretty amazing." 

"We rent from Stark. I couldn't hazard a guess at what we should be paying. I helped him out right after I got to New York and it got me arrested so he owed me. He extended our lease infinitely as a wedding present." 

"Arrested?" 

"It's a long story." 

"Right after you moved here? Weren't you pregnant?" He wasn't meeting her eyes. 

"Seven months and in handcuffs being charged with treason. It didn't stick, though." 

"Peggy!" 

"It didn't stick!" 

"You're impossible." He looked up with a smile. 

Gracie's excited shriek interrupted. Once again, she came flying down the stairs and straight into Steve's arm. He barely had time to react before she was launching herself at him. He caught her of course. 

"I couldn't find Cherry," she announced instead of a greeting. 

"Who?" Steve was already looking overwhelmed as he held her aloft in one arm. 

"The cat," Angie said, following a slower pace. 

Steve looked as all words were lost to him. He was just short of staring with his mouth open. Angie knew how to dress up. He had yet to see her in anything but her day-to-day wear. 

Peggy smirked. She liked it when other people ogled her wife. She could admit she had a little bit of a jealous streak. It made her want to pull Angie into a dark corner and whisper, 'Mine, mine, mine' in her ear. It made every one of Angie's performance exciting. 

"Eyes off, blondie," said Peggy. "She's mine." 

He blushed and flattened his hair nervously. "You both look great," he said, or rather mumbled as he set Gracie back down. 

"You shine up nicely too," Angie said to Steve. 

"Thanks. The tie is probably still croaked." 

Angie sighed like the overworked mother she was. "Let me." 

Steve looked back and forth between the two women. He clearly would prefer only Peggy get so close to his neck. Ignoring all of Steve's reservations, Angie stepped forward and had him in her grasp. He stood stock still as if any sudden movements might startle Angie into throttling him. She looked thoroughly put out to be having to look after him, even though she had volunteered. Peggy didn't know whether to laugh or cry. They were interacting of their own free will, so it was a step in some direction. 

Angie's practiced hands twisted the material with a final tug and she released him. The knot was perfectly straight. 

"Thanks," he said. 

Angie nodded. 

"Dad, Dad?" said Gracie, tugging on his arm. 

"Um, yeah?" 

"Come see my room." 

"Yes," Peggy said. "Let's give Steve a tour." 

"Okay!" Grace said. She grabbed Steve's hand pulled him upstairs. 

Peggy followed while Angie made an excuse. 

He was appropriately interested in Gracie's room. He got distracted by the photo of himself in the silver frame on top of her dresser. Then again when they stuck their head in the master bedroom just to complete the tour on the way back downstairs. Bored as soon as they had left her room, Gracie had raced ahead. 

There was a collection of pictures on Angie's dresser. She saw him zero in one and she wasn't even surprised. 

In the photo, Peggy and Angie stood in front of the stage, set pieces in the background and a large bouquet of roses that Peggy had brought in Angie's arms. It was from Angie's first opening night on Broadway. She doubted that was what he was looking at. Peggy was also about seven months pregnant and wearing a maternity dress that didn't hide the bump. 

The look of happiness on her face genuine, but he couldn't know how uncomfortable she had been that night. She had known it would be like a coming out as the person Angie was dating among her theater friends. Peggy hadn’t been up for much socializing. She certainly hadn't been wearing maternity clothes. She had only bought the dress for the evening because she had to admit nothing else fit and the saleswoman had talked her into it. Peggy had forced herself to go, forced herself back into the world, forced herself to rebuilt the work she had done by moving to New York in the first place. She was so proud of Angie, so she won't have missed it for anything. 

"I've seen pictures of Grace from almost every day of her life," he said. "I haven't seen any like this." 

"There aren't many," she said. "It was a difficult time. I wasn't up for a lot of photographs. I didn't do a lot of smiling." 

"I'm sorry." 

"When are you going to stop apologizing?" 

"When I stop feeling guilty, I guess." 

"You have nothing to feel guilty about." 

"I left you alone thinking I died." 

Peggy pointed to back at the picture. "Do I look like I'm alone?" 

He shook his head slowly. 

"Alright, then I'll hear no more about feeling guilty." 

He nodded just as slowly. 

"Good," she said though she didn't believe him. "Come on, it's time for dinner."

**

Dinner went about as well as could be expected. Maybe even better. The focus was on Gracie and the silly mostly-made-up holiday. The food was delicious and Peggy and Angie split a bottle of wine. Dessert came with a candle on top of Gracie's chocolate cake. 

Peggy could tell her daughter was feeling very grown up. Fancy restaurant, ordering from the adult menu, sitting with the adults and participating in their conversation as best as she could. Her eyes were getting heavy but the end, though. An eight o'clock reservation was very late for a nine-and-a-half-year-old. 

The check came and that was when the evening took its first turn. 

Steve snatched it out of the waiter's hand before it even hit the table. 

"My treat," he said. 

Peggy and Angie both protested, but let him win. 

A man in a full suit came back with the receipt. 

Steve flushed. "Was there something wrong with the card?" 

"No, sir," said the man. "I'm Carlton, the manager. It wanted to inform you of a situation." He leaned closer and spoke into Steve's ear. 

Steve banged a fist on the table. The dishes jumped startling had the restaurant. 

"How the hell—excuse me," he said as he got up and disappeared with Carlton. 

"What in the world?" said Angie to Peggy. 

"Mummy, what's wrong?" said Grace in a sleepy voice to Peggy. 

"Ladies, I know as much as you do," said Peggy. 

Steve came back. "There's a horde of photographers outside and security won't be able to get here for an hour," he said. 

"How did they find us?" said Peggy. 

"Damn paps," said Angie. "Not as bad as in LA mind you." 

"Let's just slip out the back," Peggy said. 

"They'll see that coming," said Angie. 

"Am I going to be in the papers?" said Gracie. She yawned. 

"She can't wait an hour," said Angie. 

"I'm fine," said Gracie. "I want to be in the papers." 

"No," said all three adults at once. 

Steve sighed. "I'll go distract them. You go out the back and take a cab. I'll get the car service back to the penthouse." 

"I'll stay too," said Angie. 

Everyone looked at Angie. Even Gracie seemed surprised. 

She put her hands on her hips. "What? I have actually have experience with this. I'll be the coach."

"They'll think we're together together," said Steve. 

"Sort of the point. That cannot hurt my career," said Angie with a smile. 

Peggy said nothing but she saw through it. Angie was all talk. It might increase her visibility, but it wasn't some scheme. She wanted to help. That was it. 

"So I'm not going to get my picture taken?" said Gracie. 

"No, darling," said Peggy. "We're going out through the kitchen." 

After he gave Gracie a goodnight and happy half birthday hug, Steve left and there was a moment of uproar before the door shut again. 

Peggy kissed Angie on the cheek. "See you at home. Thanks for this." 

"Sure," said Angie and then she said goodnight to their daughter. 

Peggy waited a minute to give anyone who had been skulking out back to get to the prize at the front and then tucked her arm around Grace's shoulders and ushered out. Walking quickly, they cut over a couple of blocks and hailed a cab. 

"One more twirl and then jim-jams," said Peggy when they got home and went straight upstairs. 

Gracie was yawning, but she gave one more spin and didn't argue about bedtime. It had been a busy day. School, getting ready, her father in visiting, and then, of course, the dinner, and escaping the paparazzi. 

Peggy sat on the edge of Grace's bed to tuck her in. 

"Was it a good night?" she asked. 

Gracie nodded. "I like half birthdays." 

"I've never celebrated one before. I wonder where your father got the idea." 

"His mom used to do it. He told me." 

"Well, that explains it." She leaned down and give Gracie a kiss. "Night, my darling girl. Happy nine and half years." 

"'Night, Mummy," Grace said. 

"I'll send Mama in when she gets home even if you're sleep." 

"Okay. Love you." 

"Love you too." Peggy gave her daughter another kiss. 

Peggy left and changed into more comfortable clothes. This could be her favorite part of the night. Hair still done, makeup still on, but home and out of her heels. Her wife just needed to get home too. She opened a bottle of red wine to let it breathe. Angie would want a nightcap before bed. 

She poured herself a glass while she waited. She settled at the island in the kitchen and started on some paperwork. 

She didn’t notice how quickly the minutes ticked by; she didn’t realize that it was getting too late even for the adults.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have an excuse for why this took so long, but I am sorry. The next part is well on its way so I promise it will be along more promptly. The last part is all planned out that should be timely as well. Thanks for reading!


	15. Two Months (continued)

The mobile phone on the island in front of Peggy buzzed, and she looked up from her work. She had got caught up, as usual, and she hadn't realized what time it was. She frowned at the clock as she reached for the phone. Her wine glass was empty, and she was making her way steadily through the stack of papers. 

Angie should have been home by now. 

Her stomach lurched as an alarm bell rang. Something was wrong. Angie and Steve should have been right behind Peggy. 

The number on the screen was unknown. Another lurch. 

She picked up. 

"It's me," said Steve in response to her greeting. 

His voice was not a comfort. Her heart started racing. 

"Where are you? What's happened?" she said. 

"New York-Presbyterian Hospital. There was a car accident." 

"Oh, God! Angie!" Peggy leaped to her feet. Not again. Lord, not again. "Is she—please tell me she's okay." 

She covered her mouth with her hand to hold back the wave. Of panic. Of fear. Of bile. Of the heart-wrenching word 'again.' Tears blurred her vision, hung on her eyelashes. 

"Listen," he said, "Angie is going to be okay. Do you hear me? Her leg is busted up and they probably have to do surgery, but she will be okay. It's not life threatening."

It took a moment to process, to stop the rapid devolution of her mind. But the world began to right itself. Angie would be okay. 

It was still wrong, backward. Peggy was the one who went into danger. Angie was solid, safe. Angie would always be there. She wasn't supposed to be one who was hurt. Peggy was supposed to keep her safe. Peggy moved towards danger so her wife and daughter would always be safe. She was supposed to protect them. She hadn't been there tonight. It was wrong. 

He said Angie would be okay, but Peggy couldn't picture it. All she could see was a big black SUV twisted, mangled, wrecked, and burning. 

She shuddered. He said Angie would be okay. 

"Can I talk to her?" she said weakly and collapsed back into her chair. "Please. I need to hear her voice." 

"No, I'm on a payphone. They whisked us away without our stuff. She's on another floor." 

"You promise me she's okay." 

"Yes, I've been with her the entire time."

She got up again and started for the stairs. 

"Are you alright?" she asked as she tested her shaky legs on the first step. They held. 

"I'm fine. A little bruised," he said. 

"Good. I'm glad." She took a deep breath. "I'll be there soon."

He gave her more instructions where to find them. She did her best to listen as fear and relief battled it out in her chest.

"I'll be there soon," Peggy repeated when he finished. "I know it's a lot to ask, but please stay with her."

"I've got nowhere else to be." 

"Thank you." 

They hung up and Peggy acted. Action always made her feel better. The follow through. The task at hand. Gather what she needed. Get Grace up. Get to the hospital. 

She was upstairs in her bedroom and putting together a go-bag for Angie. She was on autopilot. Toothbrush. Change of clothes. Socks. Shoes that weren't heels. After years of missions, Peggy knew how to put together a bag. 

Then, there was nothing else but waking Grace and Peggy hesitated. 

She went into Gracie's room and sat on the edge of the bed, but didn't rouse her. One more minute of blissful ignorance. One more minute of peaceful sleep. 

The minute passed. 

She shook Gracie's shoulder gently. Her eyes fluttered open, and she groaned. 

"You have to get up, darling," said Peggy. 

"No," Gracie said into her pillow. "No school." 

"No, not school. Come on, sit up. I need your attention."

Gracie whined, but followed directions, rubbing her eyes. "What, Mummy?" 

Peggy took a deep breath and said the words she had hoped she would never have to say. "We have to go to hospital. They will be just fine, but Mama and Steve have been in a car accident." 

Every part of Gracie's being snapped to attention. She was wide awake. Her bottom lip trembled. Peggy pulled her baby close. 

"Shh, I know. I know it's scary. Your father is okay. Mama has hurt her leg, and she will be fine too." It was hard to convince someone something she did quite believe yet. "We're going to see her, alright? Right now."

Gracie nodded against Peggy's chest. 

"We have to pack a few things. We might be there a while." 

Like her mother, Gracie liked having a something to do. Her mothers learned a long time ago to give her tasks to keep her focused. Putting together her own go-bag helped. 

Not truly understand that something might happen to her mama helped. It didn't occur to Gracie that Angie might not be okay while it was too real for Peggy. It was scary of course, but it was not so visceral. Grace knew about absence, but she didn't know loss, didn't know grief. Her mother would be fine and she had no reason to doubt that. No reason to be gun-shy the way Peggy was. 

Peggy was glad of that fact. 

Ten minutes later, they stood on curb, hand in hand, waiting for a car. Grace was out of her pajamas with her backpack was filled with books, colored pencils, and her iPod. Peggy's bag held important paperwork and a novel. They were ready for a long haul. 

The cab pulled up, they piled in and rode silently to the visitor's entrance of the hospital. Peggy marched through the doors like she owned the place. No one questioned her. A little confidence went a long way. Gracie trotted to keep up and did not let go of her mum’s hand. 

Steve had directed her to the sixth floor but when they exited the elevator a mammoth agent stopped them. Behind him, a second agent she didn't recognize eyed them. Both looked about as inconspicuous as hippos. There was a tension in the air like everyone, even the unseen agents who were sure to be about, were on red alert. 

Peggy's stomach clenched again. What was going on? It was something bigger than a car accident even if it did involve Captain America. 

"This floor is restricted," said the hippo in a deep tone. "Get back on that elevator." 

"I'm supposed to be here," Peggy said. She sounded small even to her own ears. She tried again. "I'm Agent Carter." 

He gave her a blank stare. That meant nothing to him. She had earned herself a new reputation since the plane was discovered. People at the office had known she had been a part of Steve's unit back in the day; a few people knew who her daughter's father was. It wasn't until recently that all the stories from back in the day had come to light. It had earned her a little slice of celebrity at the office to add to an already rising career. 

The big agent was so far removed he had yet to even hear her name. 

It meant something else too. Steve wasn't supposed to call Peggy. They hadn’t known she was coming. They were back to keeping secrets. He had probably snuck off to use the pay phone. 

"Steve himself called me," Peggy said. "You know Captain Rogers? The one you're protecting. My wife was in the crash too." 

"Wife?" he said and barely covered up a sneer. 

Peggy's jaw tightened. "Yes. Wife."

"You still need to get back on the elevator. No one has clearance to be here." 

"Then, what are you doing here? Some sort of medical staff better be taking care of my wife." 

He frowned angrily at her and she returned the look. 

"Agents and doctors only,” he said. “Now, get back on the elevator." 

Had he not been listening? She was a bloody agent. 

Peggy planted her feet. "As next of kin and liaison, I should have been first called. My security clearance is ten times higher than yours—” 

“—I’m secret service. I can protect the president,” he said, speaking over her. 

“—and I can guarantee, I outrank you. You are in no place to give me orders." 

Steve appeared from around a corner, interrupting the exchange. 

"I thought I heard your voice," he said to Peggy, striding towards them and ignoring the hippos.

As soon as she saw him, Grace let go of Peggy's hand and made for her father. 

"No! Grace, stop!" Peggy called, but it was too late. 

The second beefy agent grabbed Grace, and she cried out. A gasp of shock that send Peggy's already raw nerves into overdrive. The man was triple, quadruple Gracie's size and he gripped her by the upper arm in a tight fist. She tried to pull away, but she already knew she had lost. 

Do what they liked to Peggy. She didn't care if anything happened to her, if she was in danger. She did it for the people she loved. For the second time in as many hours, she was failing to protect them. Her wife was hurt; her daughter was afraid. Peggy saw red. 

She lunged forward as the agent she had been talking to tried to grab her too. Peggy saw that coming. She shoved his arm away, leaving him open so she could hit him squarely in the jaw with an uppercut. His upper body was propelled backward by the force but she pushed him back down by the shoulder to slam her knee into his stomach. He doubled over, coughing and wheezy. 

Peggy darted past him as she called to the second agent. "Unhand my child." 

He released Grace without hesitation and Peggy scooped her up. Gracie was nearly too big, but Peggy held her like she was little. Gracie buried her face with her arms around Peggy's neck with her legs tight around Peggy's waist. 

Neither moved. Neither let their feelings actually spill over. They just clung to each other. 

"You caught me," Gracie said, her voice muffled against Peggy's shoulder. 

"Always, my darling," answered Peggy. 

"What the hell is going on?" Steve barked as he marched passed Peggy and Gracie. 

The scuffle had happened so fast he had barely taken another step forward. 

"No clearance," said the first agent, still recovering his breath and trying to straighten. 

"Bull," Steve snapped. "Carter's name is at the top of the list. She's an agent like you and it's her wife who's hurt. I called her. We were all out to dinner before the crash. Don't try the national security card."

"The girl," the agent said as he did his best to stand as tall as Captain America. 

"Is my daughter. I'm giving her clearance. Anyone have an issue with that?" 

No one moved. 

Steve turned to the agent who had seized Gracie. "If you ever touch my kid again…" He didn't finish the sentence, and the man was already backing farther away. 

Steve nodded curtly as if his job was done and led Peggy and Gracie away. 

They rounded the corner and found the hallway was much quieter. It was empty. 

Peggy set Grace down and knelt down. "Are you alright?" 

"Yes," Gracie said with a nod. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes, Mummy." 

"Brave girl." 

Peggy stood up again and took her hand again. She shifted her focus to Steve. She looked him up and down. He looked unharmed except for a few scrapes. He'd taken off his jacket, tie, and dress shirt so he only had on his undershirt. It was stained with something dark. 

"It's good to see you," she said. "Please tell me that army is here only because you are VIP."

"I can't." 

There wasn't much more he could say in front of Gracie, but Peggy felt the panic rising again. 

Peggy's focus slipped. The immediate needs to be taken care of, her heart was beating out a longing to see Angie. One name was checked on the list of people she needed to make sure were okay. The other name, the most important name on the list, was still a question mark. 

"You okay, Dad?" asked Grace. 

"Yeah, kiddo," he said. "Your mom's in there." 

He spoke to Grace as he pointed a door along the hall, but the words were for Peggy. She let go of Gracie and pushed it open. 

Angie looked better than Peggy had imagined. Of course, she had been picturing the worst even though Steve had said it was just Angie's leg. Peggy had been picturing IVs and tube and the most dramatic version of patients from television. Angie barely aware that Peggy had even arrived. 

Instead, to her relief, Angie was alert and sitting up against her pillows in a hospital gown. She was battered but patched up. There was no blood or tubes. One single IV ran into her arm. Her leg was bandaged to her knee and sitting on top of the sheets. 

Peggy's breath caught as Angie smiled. She was okay. Or would be. Peggy believed it. Peggy's relief was mirrored on Angie's face. Each had only wanted the other. 

Behind her, Peggy was vaguely aware that Grace and Steve had followed. 

"Give your moms a minute," Steve whispered. 

Peggy went to her wife and Angie held up her arms much like a child wanting to be picked up. Peggy cleared the space between them and encircled Angie in a gentle hug. She pulled back only to kiss Angie. She kept her face close to Angie's when they let go. 

"Whatever happened, my darling?" Peggy said. 

"Well, I've been trying to figure out a way out of my contract."

"Angie don't joke," Peggy said, not in the mood for banter. "I'm sorry I wasn't there." 

"Ah, love, there was nothing you could've done." 

"I can still be sorry. I hate seeing you like this. I love you." 

"You too."

Their moment only lasted a minute. Gracie wriggled free from her father and plucked at Peggy. 

"My turn," she said almost in a whisper. 

Peggy gave Angie another kiss before pushing Gracie onto the bed. 

"Be gentle," Peggy reminded. 

Grace curled against Angie as carefully as she could move. Angie held her like she had when Grace was little. 

"There's my girl," Angie said and kissed Grace on the forehead. 

"You okay, Mama?" Grace asked in a small voice. 

"I will be, Peanut. I'm doing much better now you're here," Angie said. 

"Does it hurt?" 

"Yes, but they gave me medicine." She held out her arm to show Grace the IV. “Makes me a little loopy, but I had them dial it back so I would be awake to see you.” 

They kept talking and Peggy leaned against the bed, her hand brushing against Angie's forearm. 

She wanted to know more about what had happened. The real details had to more than the someone ran a red light story Angie was now telling Gracie. Not with the suits outside. 

"That's why you always have to wear your seatbelt," Angie was saying. 

But Peggy couldn't step away even to talk quietly to Steve. 

It didn't take long for Gracie's eyes to get heavy again. It was one o'clock in the morning and her exciting day had got even wilder. She rested her head on Angie's chest and fell asleep, feeling safe that her mother would be okay and not knowing there were bigger things at play. 

Steve was called in to lift Grace from the bed to a little couch against the wall. Angie sacrificed one of her pillows and Peggy tucked a spare blanket around her shoulders. 

Peggy went back to Angie's bed and perched on the mattress, careful not to go anywhere near her leg. 

"Tell me what really happened," she said. Not wanting to hear it, but needed to know as a wife, a friend, and an agent. 

She looked between Steve and Angie. 

"It wasn't an accident and I'm sorry," said Steve. 

Peggy took Angie's hand. 

"It was an accident, so not your fault and therefore nothing to be sorry for," said Angie. She turned to Peggy. "Hell, he saved me. He pulled me out of the car." 

"You shouldn't have been in the line of fire," Steve said. 

"Line of fire?" Peggy said with a gasp. There had been weapons fire? 

"Oh God, nothing like that," Angie said. 

"I didn't mean literally," Steve said. 

"Stop both of you. Start from the beginning," Peggy said. 

They told the story, talking over one and another as each point of view conflicted with the other's. 

The plan with the photographers had worked. The exit out the front door had distracted the horde. Steve had answered a few questions with Angie's hints as then they had pushed through the crowd. Once in the car, they had been chased. The photographers had been enough of distraction that no one had seen the other car. It had blindsided them in an intersection, crashing straight into the passenger side where Angie had been sitting and pinning her leg. 

The car was leaking fuel. Angie had been completely trapped. They had been alone. Steve had used his brute strength to get her out and then had gone back for the unconscious driver of the other car. 

"Just an accident," said Angie. "When he wakes up, we'll all see he was just an ass who should've got a cab home." 

"We don't know that. We don't know anything about him," said Steve. 

Somewhere in the middle of their bickering, Peggy forgot how to breathe. She felt herself panicking. She didn't like the scene playing in her head; she didn’t like the unfamiliar feeling of her heart beating out of her chest. Scrambling away from the bed, she managed to say something about checking on the man's status and escaped into the hallway. She just needed a moment, just needed to collect herself, just didn't want them to see her tears. 

She leaned against the wall and tried to remember how to make her lungs work. 

To lose Steve after just getting him back. To lose Angie and lose everything. To have to tell Gracie that either or both were gone. To face a day without them. It was like being choked. 

"Is she okay?" she heard Steve say and realized the door hadn't closed behind her. 

"Will be," Angie answered. "She doesn't want us to know she's upset. Like we couldn't tell." 

He was quiet for a moment. "I'm glad you're going to be okay." 

"Thanks to you. One question though: did you do it for her sake or mine?" 

Peggy was blatantly eavesdropping now. Their words had completely subverted her panic. She felt guilty for listening, but she wanted to know the answer. Trust Angie to get to the heart of it with a single, pointed question. It was the same way she had always been able to tell when Peggy had been thinking about Steve. Apparently, she could tell when Steve was thinking about Peggy too. 

"Ouch," he said. "For your information, I pulled you out of the car for your sake. The fact that it saves her and that little girl pain is the bonus.”

“Then, it wasn’t for me.” 

“What? No. You needed help, so I helped you. It’s just, you should’ve heard her on the phone when I said you were hurt. I’m glad you’ll be okay and I’m glad Peggy doesn’t have to go through what I’ve already put her through once. I've seen the life she has—you have together. I'm glad you were there and that you are—are a great mom. You took care of them when I couldn't and I'm grateful—really."

"Really?" 

Peggy recognized the tone and hoped Steve was up for the challenge. She nearly swooped into save him. Angie was going in for the kill. Maybe she was emboldened by the way the pain medication was making her feel, or the close call, or maybe just because they were alone. 

"Yeah," said Steve. 

"Then stop making me feel like in the way. I didn’t take care of them for you—they are my family. Grace has two mothers and Peggy asked me to stay. Stop punishing me for that."

There was a long pause, and he sighed. "I know. It's just putting together how I pictured my life with the way things turned out." 

"She says the same thing. 'All plans went out the window.'" 

"No, the plans crashed, and I crashed them. I've been taking out on the wrong person. If I'm mad at anyone, it's myself. I sort of I wish I could hate you."

"Me too." 

They both laughed. 

"Can I help you?" The new voice was a lot closer than Peggy was expecting. 

She looked up and blinked at the young nurse in front of her. She hadn't heard the woman approach. Her focus had been intent on the conversation she was not supposed to be listening to. 

"Only,” the nurse said, “those agents or whatever have been chasing people away and they're not very nice. I'd like to save you the trouble."

"I’ve been cleared," Peggy said. "My wife is in there. I needed a moment." 

"Your...oh." She looked guilty. "I just thought he was with her."

"I don't know if either would find that amusing," Peggy said with a smile. 

"He's been very protective. I just assumed. I'm sorry." 

"No matter as long as you haven't gone telling the papers my wife is with Captain America." 

"Shut up!" She clamped her hand over her mouth a second too late to stop her own outburst. She looked guilty again. "Someone said that's who he was, but I didn't believe them. Sorry." 

"It's alright." Peggy hesitated. "What do you mean protective?"

"Barely left. The agents wanted him to leave, but he said no. That's why they blocked off the wing. He sat outside her room while she was being treated and, like, dared them to try again." 

Panic swelled again as Peggy pictured Angie surrounded by doctors but alone, but she forced it back down. It had passed and Steve hadn't been far away. 

The nurse seemed to want to give Peggy a little more time because she moved towards the door, but Peggy followed. 

Steve had taken Peggy's spot by the bed, but he stepped back at once. He saw the nurse and knew it was time to leave. 

"You're in good hands," he said. "I'll go and take secret service with me." 

Peggy grabbed him and yanked him into a tight hug. He stiffened in surprise and then relaxed. 

"Thank you," she said. "I can't begin to explain what wonderful gifts you've given me. First, Gracie and then rescuing Angie tonight." 

She let go before he could mention the pain he had also caused her. She knew it would be close to mind. 

"Go home," she said. "Get some rest." 

"I can take Gracie tomorrow, so she doesn't have to stay cooped up here."

Peggy looked to Angie, who nodded. "That'd be great. I'll call you in the morning." 

"Alright, 'night." 

"Good night," Peggy said as Angie waved. 

The nurse was already checking Angie over. To busy herself, Peggy fussed with Gracie's blanket until the woman left. 

The nurse gave Angie another dose of pain medication and it made her sleepy. There was so much Peggy wanted to say, but she let Angie rest. She sat beside the bed, holding Angie's and rubbing little circles on the back with her thumb. 

"It's like...you remember?" Angie said after a while. 

"You didn't finish your sentence, dear," said Peggy. 

"When Gracie was born." 

"I remember,” Peggy said, trying not to smile at how unlikely it was that she would forget the birth of her only child. “You held my hand the whole night and it was a long night." 

"I was scared,” she said, sounding a bit like a drunk at a bar admitting their deepest secrets to the bartender. “Scared of getting left behind. You’d moved out and you were becoming a new mom. It would’ve been easy to just forget me.” 

"Never." 

"But you coulda."

"I suppose so, but I wanted you there." 

"I didn't know what would happen next. I knew you and Peanut would be okay. With or without me. I wanted it to be with me." 

Peggy stood up and kissed Angie. She didn't let go of her hand. She hoped it said everything she couldn't find the words for. It had been inadequate to thank Steve for what he had given her, but no words could express what Angie had given Peggy and how badly Peggy had returned it. 

“Me too,” said Peggy. “I wanted it to be with you. I still do.” 

"I know. That’s what I'm trying to say. Steve and I talked."

"Oh?" Only the drugs helped covered Peggy's bad lie. 

"I think we understand each other a little better. He saved my life—he didn't have to." 

"Of course, he did!"

"Okay, I don't mean he wouldn't have helped, but he didn't even hesitate. I would've. I've been wishing he'd go back in the ice." 

Not entirely a surprising sentiment, but it was definitely the drugs making her more honest. 

"You never signed up for any of this," Peggy said. 

"You—and Steve too—always say things didn't work out the way you expected. It's the same for me. I never thought I'd marry a secret agent. Have a baby months after we met. It's like we got pregnant on a one-night stand and it shouldn't have worked. We shouldn't be as happy as we are." 

"But we are—you are? Happy?" 

"Yeah, babe. I love my life. I owed a lot to Steve before we even met. We never would've had Gracie at all without him. That's nine years I never, ever, ever want to change. Time for a new plan, right?” 

Peggy kissed her again in answer. 

There was no need to say anything else. Everything they had been afraid of had fallen away. Worst-case scenario overcome. Not entirely put back together but on the mend. For the first time, there seemed to be a way forward. It was strange, it was unorthodox, but they made a family. Nothing like a little trauma to bring people together. 

She settled back in her seat until Angie really fell asleep. She checked on Gracie and then went to take a lap around the floor. Call it habit or paranoia, but she liked knowing what was going on. They were still questions about what had happened. She would keep watch.

At the end of the hall, she found Steve dozing in a chair. She tapped her toe against a leg and he jerked awake. 

“Thought you were leaving?” she said. 

“I thought it was better if I stayed.” 

“Why?” 

“Because we still don’t know who the other drive is. His license is fake. Angie was only hurt because of me. I wasn’t going to just leave.” 

Peggy shook her head but smiled too. “I’m here. I wouldn’t let anything else happen. I have them covered.” 

“And I’ve got you covered.” 

She squeezed his shoulder. “Maybe I’ll get some rest.” 

“Good idea.” 

She finished her sweep and went back into Angie’s room. She lifted her daughter onto her lap on the little sofa and allowed her eyes to close.


End file.
